


Pipster Prompt-a-Thon III

by therune



Series: Pipster Prompt-a-Thon [1]
Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 17:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 54,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therune/pseuds/therune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the fills I wrote for the piper_trickster promptathon.<br/>(It's a bit like a kinkmeme, except not anonymously, for one fandom and where everyone who posted a fic requests one in turn...which can turn into comment chains with over 100 responses and over 5000 comments in total)</p><p>There are 100 fics in there, so  - while tagging this as a whole - I will add specific characters, warnings etc to the individual chapters.</p><p>There will be lots of humor, mostly gen stuff, slash, het, lots of alcohol, and supervillains  breaking stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trickster's Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Piper and Trickster try to rob a museum

The Rogues weren´t metas. It wasn´t a fact they´d print on business cards (not that they _had_ any), put in a cv (not that they ever used one that wasn´t faked anyway) or something to be extraordinarily proud of. It was just this: a fact. Nevertheless, it was so satisfying to point out that they had beaten the Flash - the fastest man alive, a superhero with nothing than brains, teamwork and witty (punny) banter.

 

They were average joes.  
Well, late at night, drunk and feeling philosophical, they speculated about powers; what they would do with powers, how different their lives might have been and what superpower they would like to have if they had to choose.  
Most of their power-wishes were related to their gadgets (except for Roscoe who wanted telepathy), they agreed that with their powers they would live their lives exactly as they did now, maybe irritating the Flash a bit more, and at that point they either moved on to new topics, poker, more booze or some of their less intelligent activities (which, in the past, had included, prank calls, smearing graffiti on the townshall and on one spectacular occassion, starting on a trip to Disneyland in a stolen limousine).

 

James didn´t have any powers. He was just smart and a tad arrogant about it. Piper disagreed. James had one infuriating superpower: he had the uncanny ability to make everything he wore look good.  
For god´s sake, the man ran around in striped, bright, colorful spandex, and still managed to look amazing. Piper didn´t dare to imagine what James would look like if he actually cared about his appearance. (At least, he didn´t imagine it too often. The thoughts of James in a tux, or a pair of jeans and only that, or maybe swim wear, proved to be extremely distracting.)

 

Piper was insanely jealous. He himself knew that his fashion choices were a bit ...extravagant or eccentric, but at least when he wore funny outfits, people didn´t pay him attention. James however....James could have worn an old burlap sack and still would have received lots of appreciative looks.  
Which was why trying to go undercover with James was a disaster.

 

They were at a party for the richest patrons of the museum, posing as French art experts. James even had an incredible sexy fake French accent...bastard. While James spent his time basking in attention and worship, twirling a champagne flute and smiling beatifically, Piper spent it sweating, glancing nervously around and feeling uncomfortable. They tried to keep their interaction to a minimum, but they had to exchange important information now and then and re-discuss their plan. And so, people started noticing Piper more. And that was not a good sign.  
Maybe some people would recognize him, he was after all the heir to the Rathaway fortune and had been forced to attend events like this.  
Even if he wore a wig and violet sunglasses, this was still a dangerous situation. And James drawing attention to him didn´t help at all - James, wth his smiles, golden hair, blue eyes, impressive figure, dressed in a tux - it was infuriating.

 

"Lighten up, mon frère, this is a party. No need to look that grim," James said to him, leaning at a pillar next to the bar. Piper downed his martini.  
"That´s easy to say for you. People keep staring. I think they´re getting suspicious."  
"Nonsense, you´re too paranoid" he leaned in and whispered in Piper´s ear, "I stole five wallets, managed to get insider information for the stock market and even know about a rigged horse race. This evening is going along smoothly. Relax."  
How could Piper relax, with James being up in his personal space (not that James had ever known what personal space was, or so it seemed), whispering into his ear, still speaking with that damn fake French sexy accent and being so incredibly handsome...

 

Oh crap. People were staring. And now people were talking. He could hear them. Then someone noticed a missing wallet, and people were still staring, and

 

"Mon frère, I think we should leave. Swiftly," Piper added.  
"I am inclined to acquiesce your request."  
"What?"  
"Run!"

 

And they ran, easily evading their pursuers and security.  
They caught their breath in an alleyway, panting, Piper almost doubled over, while James still grinned and looked so handsome.  
"Oh god, I hate you sometimes," Piper said between gulps of air.  
"Why that? This was a nice evening."  
"Nice? We got chased by a small mob!"  
"So?"  
"So?! SO?! I can´t believe it. This is all your fault! If you weren´t so damn handsome, people wouldn´t always be staring at us!"  
"Whoa, wait - you´re mad at me for being...handsome?"  
"Yes," Piper replied, fully knowing how stupid he sounded.  
James was silent for a few moments. Then a grin that reached both his ears appeared on his face. "I can live with that. It´s like a superpower, is it not?"  
Piper stared at him. "You are unbelievable."  
"I know," James said, somehow managing to look even more handsome, buttons of his shirt halfway undone, hair tousled and a faint flush of color on his cheeks. And the mischief burning in his eyes. "Let´s go get some food, I´m starving."  
"They had oudevres at the party," Piper pointed out.  
"I hate that fancy food; what´s the deal about eating fish eggs anway? No, my friend, there will be pizza. Delicious, crisp, mouth-watering pizza."  
Piper followed him. Apparently James´ powers of attraction didn´t only include attention, it worked on Piper´s whole body.

 

Later that night, they sat in a pizzeria, laughing, sharing a prosciutto funghi and James pulled not five, but six wallets out of his tux (he had robbed a security guard on their way out), two necklaces, one very expensive brooch and three sets of car keys.

 

To hell with all that no-powers business; Piper was fairly sure that James was simply magical


	2. Speed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James takes Piper dancing

Piper´s best friend was a speedster.  
Piper had also spent years fighting speedsters.  
So, he thought that he knew quite a lot about speed.  
Yes, he knew about miles per hour, about acceleration, about velocity and inertia, but he never really got what "speed" meant.

 

Now, as James stood before him, made his obeisance to Piper and held out his hand, Piper´s heart began to race. As James gently pulled him from his seat to the dancefloor, he felt the rush. And as they danced, twirled, their feet nearly flying across the dancefloor (or maybe they really did fly, you could never be too sure with James) he understood. He understod the rush, the whirl of colors, the feeling in your gut that was tight and uncomfortable and demanded to go faster, he felt centrifugal foces tearing at them, he looked in James´ eyes and was in the heart of the whirlwind itself. James flashed a smile, brief, fleeting and more beautiful because it was gone so soon.  
Together, they danced, they flew and Piper understood.


	3. For Glory and Honour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues and World of Warcraft

JJ wasn´t exactly a normal parent.  
He was a mostly reformed supervillain, extremely immature and until a few years ago, hadn´t even known that he had been a parent.  
His relationship with Billy wasn´t tense, just unusual.  
JJ would never be the dad who took his son to go camping or fishing, to take him to a baseball game or give him tips on the various problems of the teenage life. Billy would never be the son who would like to these things anyway.  
Besides, Mindy had warned Billy not to take any advice JJ might be offering, it was bound to be either dangerous or stupid.

 

JJ visited Billy and Mindy at least once a month, but he never let Billy visit him. He claimed that Keystone - while a perfectly nice town with a long and big superhero tradition - was also home to the likes of Mirror Master and various criminals who regularly broke out of Iron Heights.  
Not to mention the Rogues. (who weren't exactly dangerous or likely to cause trouble for him, but they knew a lot of embarrassing stories about him and he'd never live those down).

 

When Billy wanted to talk, they'd talk over the phone.  
At least, until last month.

 

It had been Billy's birthday, JJ had shown up with a lot of presents to make Mindy's new boyfriend very uncomfortable (the shark-like grin he directed at him didn't exactly help either) and in those many, many boxes, there had been a copy of World of Warcraft and enough subscriptions for two years. Billy laughed smiled, hugged him and made him promise to get himself a copy, too, because then they could play together, spatial difference be damned.

 

So, JJ went over to Piper's, asked him which computer was best suited for online gaming, bragged about his son and how he was going to college soon, played with the rats and left Piper's kitchen a mess of frosting and cookie smell.

 

JJ set up his new computer, installed the game, downloaded all the new patches, got bored meanwhile and egged the Flash museum, returned and started playing. He used his headset to chat with Billy while they slew a dragon, took over a hostile town and just had fun.

 

But then, college came and Billy stopped playing to focus on his studies. Of course JJ was proud - his son knew more about rationality and responsibility now than JJ would ever will. He wasn't upset, he was just a bit...lonely.  
Being a gnome rogue wasn't just as much fun if he didn't have his son by his side.  
But, whenever JJ got lonely, there was one person he'd turn to.

 

"Please! Please, please, pleeeeeease! It´s super-fun and cool! Please, just try it, Piper!"  
"James, how often do I have to say this, I don't want to play a video game with you."  
"But...please!"  
And then Piper made the mistake of looking JJ in the eye.  
No man should ever have blue, big puppy eyes lke that. Already Piper felt bad and had the inexplicable urge to pet JJ's hair.  
"But-"  
And then Piper made the next mistake of not moving fast enough. JJ laid his hand - his soft, warm hand - gently over Piper's and whispered "Please".

 

The next day, Piper bought himself a copy of World of Warcraft.  
Then, he spent three hours thinking about which character to choose, while JJ was giving less than helpful tips over the phone.  
"You could be a mage; spells, buffs, non-melee"  
"James, I have no idea what you just said. Mages are those guys in the purple dresses, right?"  
"Yup."  
"No, thank you."  
"You could be a rogue, like me!"  
"No, thank you." He would not feed JJ´s ego that way.  
After more bickering, Piper entered the world of Azeroth as a human warlock. He switched over to his headset.  
"James, I'm in."  
"There you are!"  
Piper looked around the area - fields, grass, basically no players, a big church and a gnome with pigtails. He groaned.  
"Please tell me you're not the gnome rogue Colombina."  
"I am not the gnome rogue Colombina."  
"Was that a lie?"  
"Yes."

 

James taught him the basics, told him to call him when he needed help and then rode off on a metal ostrich.  
Piper sighed and prepared himself for a few hours of torture. And all because it was so hard to resist James' puppy eyes...

 

"Healers in raid 1, you're responsible for the tank. All other healers, focus on your groups, except Mitch, you're our out-of-fight rezzer.. Everyone buff the warry before we leave. Locks, those stones ready? Drood, reskill to heal tree,"  
"Fuck you, man!"  
"All potions go? Last chance to go to the bank. Abra, how's your ressy?"  
"Terrific."  
"And remember, healers on hots, dds focus on dots, drood, you're our de-curser then, alt tanks ready?"  
"Let's go slay some demons!"

 

Piper's character, dressed in black robes, a hood with red shining eyes underneath and accompanied by a huge rock monster, stood next to the flight master when he was approached by a gnome with pigtails, wearing a pink, very revealing dress. Said gnome blew him a kiss.  
"WTF, JJ, get your equip on and summon your mount."  
"I love it when you talk nerdy to me."  
Piper groaned again.

 

After a successful raid, thanks to Piper's coordination skills and a mean backstab from JJ, the raid group had a little dance party on the corpse of the dungeon boss.

 

"You look ridiculous," JJ said over the headset as Piper´s grim warlock began to imitate John Travolta's character from Saturday Night Fever.  
"You're a gnome with pigtails, you're ridiculous."  
"Shut up, pansies," said another voice from the teamspeak.  
"Digger?!"  
"What the....oh god, I knew those voices sounded familiar. JJ, Piper?"  
"Yes. Digger, don't tell me - oh god, you are the rude nightelf druid."  
"Guilty as charged."  
"Um..." a new voice said. On screen, a dwarf with an enormous beard waved at them.  
"Len?!"  
"Yes...and Mick." A Draenai - also with a huge tentacle beard - stopped dancing and waved.  
"What a coincidence!" The human female warlock in the red excuse for a dress joined them.  
"Mark? For god's sake!"

 

Piper looked at the screen and couldn't help but to imagine the Rogues in place of their characters.  
"I....uh... I think I'll log out now."  
"Yeah, me too."


	4. The more things change...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues and the genderswap universe

Piper´s ability to summon boom tubes was cool, helpful and impressive.  
Piper´s inability to control where the hell his boomtubes lead was more than annoying.  
Coupled with Piper´s horrible timing, it was infuriating.

 

While it had been incredible nice of Piper to boomtube into Hell to bust him out, he had only managed to draw attention to Trickster who had been in the process of escaping by himself anyway.  
While Digger would be eternally grateful for Piper rescuing Owen, Owen was not so happy to be plucked out of an afterlife which included a lot of naked women.  
And then Piper tried to save Roscoe, only to discover that Roscoe had already come back to life, taken over a politician and was on his way to become vice president. Roscoe had only calmed down after Lisa had shown up and kissed him senseless.  
Roy had been pissed about Piper´s intrusion, but he gladly accepted his "get out of afterlife" ticket.  
Only Sam chose to remain where he was, in a land beyond the mirrors. Piper couldn´t exactly blame him since he was married, had 4 kids...and was the king of the realm. He was just a little bit annoyed himself that no one seemed to appreciate his help.

 

He decided then to use his new talent for smaller things, things that no one would object to.  
Like creating shortcuts.  
That went well the first three times. The fourth time, he had transported the Rogues to a beach in Hawaii. Sadly, on a parallel universe.  
To be fair, the Rogues didn´t even notice that until a tsunami threatened to flood the island and Superwoman came to the rescue.  
Piper had tried to reverse the path of the boom tube, the Rogues landed back in Keystone City...only still in the parallel universe.

 

They watched from a safe distance as the Rogues robbed a bank and the Flash was there to stop them.  
Mark had joked about huge breasts, high heels and skimpy outfits, and how through a cosmic rule their female counterparts had to be smoking hot, but in truth...nothing really had changed.  
Captain Cold ...still was Captain Cold. Just without stubble and with longer hair, but neither the costume nor the attitude had changed.  
Heatwave was exactly like Hewatwave. If they hadn´t known that a woman was underneath the suit, they could have swon that it was just Mick.  
Ironically, lady Piper´s outfit lacked the enormous cleavage that Piper´s old costume had had...the teasing went on for about five minutes.  
Both Weather Wizard and Mirror Master wore different costumes, but they were neither very skin revealing nor very dissimilar. Mark´s counterpart wore boots and a green tunic, the female Mirror Master wore a long dress with trumpet sleeves...but the color scheme was just the same. Not even their hair was any different.  
Only Digger seemed to adhere to Mark´s stupid rule - her costume was skin-tight, included a riciculously short mini-skirt, huge cleavage and a mane of auburn locks. And she spouted a lot of sexual innuendo at the female Flash.  
Piper was almost disappointed that this universe didn´t seem to have a Trickster, until a voice from behind surprised them.  
"Let me guess? Another fanclub? Man, while I´m somewhat flattered, villain obsession is more common in Gotham. I´d change back into normal clothes before Flasherella there thinks you´re henchmen and beats you up."  
There was a Trickster in this universe.  
Blond, wavy hair, tan skin, blue eyes and a smile to die for - all there.  
And the stripes - of course the strpes and the bright colors.  
The female Trickster walked up to James, inspecting him closely.  
"You know, not many can pull off this look and still look so ...handsome."  
Both Tricksters grinned - and it was eerie how much it was like looking into a mirror - and began to circle on another. Christ, female!Trickster was even just as tall as their Trickster. They smirked, leaned closer  
"I think I´m going to be sick," Len announced.  
Then both Trickster´s laughed, the same tinkling, wonderful laugh.  
"Relax, I am a bit narcissistic, but not that much," female Trickster said and turned to face the other Rogues.  
"You know who we are?"  
"I´m pretty good at guessing. Besides, the clothes and the attitude were a dead give-away. And we´ve been having some experience with cross-dimensional tourism lately."  
"You have?" Piper asked.  
"The pet-universe was kind of weird, the glam rock universe was just bizarre, and the visit from the superhero universe...man, that was creepy."  
She flashed them a smile.  
"You´re screwing with us," Mick guessed.  
"Yep," she admitted, "but still - go back to your universe because you could cause a paradox or stuff."  
"We´re trying," Piper admitted sheepishly.  
"Seems to me like you need a bit of luck."  
She stepped over to Piper and kissed his cheek. Then she whispered into his ear and leaned back again.  
Piper flushed bright red.  
"We´re gonna...uh, we´ll just...uhm... I´m going now," he said, flustered.  
She winked. The Rogues thought that it was incredibly attractive until they remembered that JJ winked in exactly the same manner.  
They shuddered.  
"Bring us home, Piper," they said.

 

And then, one boom tube later, they were.

 

"Hey, Piper, what did lady me say to you?" James inquired.  
Piper blushed and left.  
Some things were best left unsaid.


	5. Home is where the heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James asks Catwoman out

Every hero has a soft spot for his or her hometown.  
Superman has Metropolis, Batman has Gotham, Green Arrow has Star City, and so on, and so on.  
And every hero has his or her own Rogues Gallery.  
And every villain has his or her own hometown.

 

While the heroes are fairly tolerant about other superheroes in their cities, they were after all there to help (except for Batman and Gotham), the villains were very territorial. Either about their hero or their turf. Maybe both, maybe just one. Maybe they were connected.

 

The Rogues gladly threw every one out of Keystone with a friendly "Fuck you and stay off our turf!", followed by cold blasts, flames or lightning.  
In turn, they tended to stay on their turf.  
Trickster had briefly lived in L.A., but the only person complaining about this was the hero Blue Devil and the opinion of heores didn´t count in their book anyway.  
Heatwave had had a job working with Cadmus for a while, Captain Boomerang had been part of the Suicide Squad, and the Top had worked on one of his taking-over-the-world schemes outside of Keystone. These exceptions aside, the Rogues never managed to stay away from Keystone too long.

 

Not that they would have been particularly welcome in any other of the hero-cities, anyway.

 

But the Trickster had been to New York, just for a few days. And those days had changed his life.  
So, now and then, the Trickster went to Gotham. He never stayed long, fearful of Batman and his clan and particularly the villains there.

 

"Hey, Miss Kitty," he said in a dark night, leaning against a gargoyle.  
Selina whirled around. A smile tugged at her lips instantly.  
"What brings you to Gotham again? Admiring the scenery?"  
James smiled at her brilliantly. "While neither darkness, gothic architecture or even these little monsters" - he touched the gargoyle´s wings - "interest me in the slightest, I am in fact admiring the scenery."  
"How very flattering."  
"What can I say, you make flattery easy."  
They sat down behind the statue where James had set up a little picnic, complete with checkered blanket, food basket and a sunflower.  
"Is that a date, little Trickster?" she asked.  
"Only if you want it to be," he replied.

 

They ate - and Selina had to admit that everything was just wonderful - and spoke; about the latest heist, which Robin Hood stunt James had pulled recently and whether Green Arrow had hunted him down for copyright infringement already, about things in general and nothing at all.  
Selina took a cupcake and marveled how long it had been since she could have accepted a gift from a villain whithout being in mortal danger.  
"How long did you wait for me here?" she asked.  
"Only an hour or so. The rooftops here in Gotham are very busy - I think I saw Robin and Batgirl chasing someone up here."  
"And what did our fearless Trickster do?" she grinned.  
"Miss Kitty, every villain has at least a healthy respect, if not downright fear, of the Bat-Clan. Naturally I hid myself-"  
"In these pants?"  
"Yes, in these pants. However, the man being chased may have run into a tripwire...that was connected to a blue yoyo. Maybe."  
"You hero, you."

 

They sat next to each other, fingers intertwined, Selina rested her head on James´ shoulder. They watched the sunrise.  
James kissed Selina´s cheek - ever the gentleman, ever gentle, ever caring, ever so in love. "Come with me," he said.  
"Stay with me," she replied.  
He raised their joined hands and kissed hers.  
"I could never live in Gotham." It´s too dark, too grim, too dangerous. James would never survive there, not with all the villains, not with all the heroes.  
"I could never live without it."  
Both knew that it wasn´t the city holding her, not the villains, not the fact that it was her turf, it was the hero holding her there.

 

James knew.

 

And every time, he asked.  
And every time, she said no.  
And every time, he knew she would never say yes and would always break his heart.  
And every time, he still asked.


	6. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a dark story about shadows, demons and nightmares

As a child, James has never been afraid of his shadow.  
His shadow didn´t seem creepy, didn´t have a life of his own, didn´t move independently...James had once wished it did, because then he´d be like Peter Pan, chasing his own shadow...flying.

 

But his shadow never moved.

 

There are few things James is afraid of now.  
Prison. Iron Heights is so much worse.  
Loss. He lost enough friends over the years and they will never come back.  
Not death. Not dying. What comes after, that terrifies him.

 

In his nightmares, his shadow moves. His shadow grows. His shadow on the wall turns to look at him, bears fangs it cannot have, and it talks.  
It whispers, smooth, cool and frightening. It speaks of Hell, of the Underworld, it speaks of demons and darkness.  
His shadow isn´t his anymore. He looks at it to see the looming silhouette of Neron, to see hands with fingernails that are too sharp, to see a head with wrong hair, to see a frame that´s too big for him and which defies the light and the angle of it.  
"Soon," it tells him with a voice that chills his blood.

 

James wakes up screaming.

 

He panicks and looks at his shadow, peeks between his fingers like a child. His shadow is on the wall. It is his shadow again, showing his hunched-over frame. He waves a hand, the shadow copies his motion perfectly.  
James releases his breath, lies back down and goes to sleep.

 

His shadow shows a lump in his bed, shows his head and his hair.  
Then it moves and it´s not his shadow anymore.  
Neron watches.  
Neron waits.  
"Soon," he whispers.


	7. Hell's Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Trickster...Underworld Unleashed was just the harmless beginning

Generally speaking, Hell was bad. Hell was the worst thing the most twisted mind could come up with and then worse.  
But, some corners of Hell are worse than that.

 

The Trickster´s first stay in Hell hadn´t been that bad.  
Supervillain meet-up, dreadful revelations and everyone scared of the Joker - nothing special. Besides, he wasn´t even dead.

 

Only his friends were.

 

Neron had found him. Looked into his eyes, into his soul, and he had talked.  
He had not threatened, cursed or yelled. It had seemed like a perfectly normal conversation, nothing special. But of course it wasn´t.  
The Devil told the Trickster that he had been awaiting him, that he had counted on him getting to Hell, that he had anticipated his tricks. The Trickster didn´t like those at all - he was never predictable, never the same, full of surprises, even for himself.

 

To the Devil, he was an open book.  
He was made of glass.  
The Trickster didn´t like this.

 

But that had just been the beginning.  
If the intensity of Hell could be measured by the fabled temperature, he had been taking a stroll in Hell´s walk-in-freezer. Naked, while eating ice cream.

 

He left Hell with the heroes, leaving behind the cursing, yelling Devil who vowed revenge. He, in turn, vowed, never to return.

 

The Trickster went on to play Robin Hood. Then to being a normal citizen. Then to being a cop. Finally to being a federal agent.  
And then, metaphorically, Hell broke loose.

 

With every step he had taken from his old life - a life full of colors, games, Rogues and laughter - he had thought he had ascended to a new, better life. Actually, he had been on the road to Hell and every deed comitted in the name of justice brought him one step closer to Hell´s kitchen.

 

The law was not justice. The Trickster had always known that. Agent Jesse hid behind a badge and he had forgotten. He had forgotten to laugh, to play tricks, what was truly right and wrong.

 

In Hell, the Devil merely waited.

 

The Rogues War.  
The Murder of Bart Allen.  
The Escape.

 

James died and he fell, faster than ever before, deeper than he ever feared and into a darkness he could never have imagined.  
The Devil had been awaiting him.

 

And once again, James was an open book, was glass and empty. Hollow.  
Neron talked to him, softly, an arm slung around his shoulder, gently steering him. Soft, melodious words trickled into James´ ears. Calm whispers filled his mind.  
Soon, James would discover that they had left Hell behind, that even Hell´s kitchen was just a cool spot. He walked right into the fire, Neron at his side, Neron´s words in his ears, Neron´s thoughts in his mind.  
Neron´s smile on his lips, Neron´s fangs on his teeth and Neron´s eyes where his used to be.

 

And this inferno was just the beginning.


	8. Manners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam assists Piper in going mailbox-smashing

Piper knew how to behave like a perfect gentleman.  
He knew what to say, how to say it properly and most of all, what not to say.  
But that didn´t mean that he always acted according to it.

 

The engine roared underneath him, the wind whipped around him and howls of joy filled the night.  
Along with a few spectacular curses.  
Piper leant out of the car window, tightened his grip on the bat he was holding and aimed for the next mailbox.

 

Of course he knew it was childish.  
Of course he knew that he would gain nothing from it.  
But that didn´t stop him.

 

Feeling the immense satisfaction at terrorizing his old neighbors and "friends" from Keystone´s richest neighborhood with vandalism, graffiti and swearing, made up for years of being left out, being mocked and ignored.  
Defying his parents and everything they stood for felt amazing.

 

"Yippie Yah-YEAH, motherfucker!" he yelled and smashed the mayor´s mailbox.

 

In the driver´s seat, Sam cheered him on.

 

Piper felt simply amazing.  
Slightly inebriated, a tiny bit violent but incredibly liberated.  
And a tad smug.  
And simply wonderful.


	9. Adventure Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired by the Adventure meme

Piper legitimately hated JJ´s "adventure time".

 

Apparently, there was a several pages-long article in JJ´s personal dictionary about what "adventure time" meant.

 

It could mean:  
\- go out for ice cream and eat so many flavors until he threatened to throw up  
\- search for pirate treasure...in Kansas  
\- taunting the Flash  
\- insulting the Flash´s mother  
\- insulting the Flash´ grandmother  
\- day trip to Star City  
\- go to the movies and eat popcorn  
\- wear one of his many, many disguises and trick people  
\- ride every roller-coaster he could find  
\- "lovingly" mock any Rogue which resulted in a cross-town hunt and insane amounts of property damage

 

And the worst of it?  
He always needed company.  
Piper knew something bad was about to happen whenever JJ approached him with that smile.

 

"Piper, grab my hand!"  
Piper eyed the outstretched hand warily. Then he looked into JJ´s eyes, full of joy, determination and maybe something more.  
He grabbed the hand.  
"Adventure!" JJ yelled.  
Mentally, Piper slapped himself for it.  
Then he began to scream like a little girl when they were catapulted into the air. Behind them, they were leaving a trail of rainbows.

 

JJ had stolen Roy´s gear.  
Shit.


	10. Tantalus would be proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One half of the Rogues breaks into a bank and gets stuck, the other half mocks them.

"Well, as far as poetic justice goes, this one´s pretty good, right?" said Piper.  
"What´s poetic about being locked in a bankvault?" Sam asked.  
"We have what we came for and now we have to realize that it won´t bring us satisfaction and that our struggle was futile."  
"Futile? We´re sitting on a couple million, that´s not what I´d call futile," Digger replied.  
"But what do we gain from it? All that money, and it´s useless to us now."  
Digger flicked a coin at Piper.  
"Ouch!"  
"See? Doesn´t look useless to me."  
"Can´t you two focus more on breaking out than bickering?" Sam asked.  
He´d rather be stuck with any other Rogue in a bankvault - and not just because every other Rogue probably would have broken out already.  
Piper´s flute for mind control was useless; the walls of the vault were too thick and even if they weren´t, there was nobody around to hear him play anyway.  
And none of Digger´s boomerangs were potent enough to smash the thick walls.  
Normally, Sam was the expert at breaking out, his mirrors being incredibly helpful, but his gun had been smashed while they had incapacitated the lone guard.  
And then Digger had screwed up, the door had fallen shut with them inside, and they were trapped.  
Sam didn´t like being trapped.  
He liked being trapped with two pissed-off Rogues even less.

 

"Oh, like Tantalus, we´re in eternal torment, wasting our days in- ouch! Digger, cut it out! My flute works in here perfectly, so watch it!"

 

Sam sighed.  
Really, any other Rogue.

 

"Piper, you´re getting your mythology mixed up. Tantalus was surrounded by what he wanted and was unable to reach it; we are surrounded by what we want, and we can reach it, in fact, we already have, we just can´t get out."

 

Sam didn´t like the look on Piper´s face as he lifted the flute to his lips.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Meanwhile, in the bank but outside of the vault.  
"Do you think we should let them out now?" JJ asked.  
"Not yet," Len replied, "they wanted to do a solo-job, that is what they get." After Sam, Digger and Piper had failed to return from a "job that is so easy we could do it blindfolded", the rest of the Rogues had gone to investigate. It wasn´t hard to deduce what had happened; the three had managed to lock themselves in the bank vault.  
Naturally, the rest of the Rogues had stayed to watch, armed with chairs, beer and an acapella version of "I told you so".  
Len leaned back in the recliner and reached for a beer.  
Mick and Mark raised their beers in mock-salute.  
The Rogues were bastards, sometimes.


	11. Intelligence is in the eye of the beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite their blue-collar reputation, the Rogues are actually geniuses.  
> Well, sometimes

The Rogues had quite a reputation as blue collar criminals.  
(with the exception of Piper, Roscoe and Roy, it was true)  
No one thought of them as particularly smart or cultivated.

 

Captain Cold was a man who loved beer, hockey and hookers. No one thought him capable of any kind of science besides how to open a beer bottle.  
Cold never bothered to remind people about his cold gun which was built using a cyclotron, his extensive knowledge about physics especially as sub-zero temperatures and his engineering skills.  
It was useful being underestimated.

 

The Trickster was a immature guy who fought with rubber chicken, box gloves on springs and yoyos. Completely harmless, right?  
No one thought about his air walker shoes which defied gravity, chemistry skills, and no one remembered his brief sting as a lecturer at a university.

 

Captain Boomerang was a drunk, rude Australian, hairy bastard who threw stuff at people.  
No one thought about sonic boomerangs, explosions, remote control and the fact that he had one built a fully functioning spaceship.  
People only tended to remember stuff like the boomerang with a speaker mounted on top through which he spewed insults, the pie-throwing incident and his possibly worst invention, the barbecue grill on wheels.  
With the handlebars on the wrong side.

 

People underestimated the Rogues.  
And the Rogues just loved proving them wrong.


	12. Marvelous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossover with the Marvel Universe: Piper meets Tony Stark

Tony hated magic. He hated, hated, hated magic. Magic was illogical, magic was unfair. Magic didn´t follow the rules of nature, the rules of physics or anything he could understand.  
So when the Avengers fought a millenia-old witch who wanted to take over the world by pulling monsters out of fairytales, and a minotaur came chasing after him, Tony really hated magic.  
The witch - who looked remarkably good for an ancient force of evil and if she wasn´t a villain, Tony would have definetely liked to see her again very soon - announced that apparently pulling mindless monsters, animals and beasts was not enough, that she needed someone with brains. She smiled.  
Suddenly, she looked very ugly.

 

And again the world lurched, something hummed with power, and rats streamed out onto the pavement of New York.  
Little furry beasts, eyes glowing a ghostly green, screeching.  
Tony wrecked his brain. What did she want with rats? Didn´t she want someone with brains, someone more, well, human?  
And then a nightmare stepped out after the rats. A figure clad in dark green, with a ragged hood, silver gleaming in his fist and eyes glowing a ghostly green.  
Then Tony knew.  
The Pied Piper.  
He controlled rats. He controlled people.  
Oh shit. Mind control.  
"Attention, Avengers, possible mind controller here. Don´t let him use that flute!" his voice transmitted over the communication channel.

 

The witch stepped closer to the Piper. "Listen, dear Piper, these people are your enemies. They betrayed you. They denied you your reward. You need to punish them."  
The Piper turned his head, at least the motion of the hood seemed to indicate this.  
"Listen, sweetheart, I have been jerked around enough to last me ten lifetimes. I´m sick of being dragged through space just because someone thinks it would be fun. And now, I think it´s time that you paid the Piper."  
Before the witch´s eyes could widen and her mouth fall open, the rats had already swarmed over her.

 

Tony stood next to the man with his arm outstretched, palm upwards, repulsors humming. His friends were busy subduing the rest of the beasts - the nasty minotaur, a band of cyclops, a stone dragon and a boar with golden fur - and announced that they had things under control.

 

"Could you please turn those things away? It feels like someone´s pointing a gun at me."  
"So, you´re not ...evil, are you?"  
"Hey, I´m the victim here, I was abducting by this...woman? Witch? Transdimensional matter transporter operator?"  
The man flashed him a grin, barely visible under the hood.  
"I see you´re in the business, right?"  
"Been since I ran away from college. And that was a long time ago." He outstretched his hand. "I´m Piper, by the way."  
Tony raised an eyebrow - not that it could be seen underneath the helmet - and powered down the repulsors. He shook the offered hand.  
"Iron Man," he introduced himself.  
"And here I thought the aliases where I come from were stupid."  
Tony laughed.  
"So, you´re from another dimension? And it´s not your first time, judging from what you said earlier?"  
"I was yanked across the universe to a literal hell planet once. And I don´t think I´m in Kansas anymore. Well, metaphorically as literally. You see, I´m from Kansas, but this is definetely not my New York. For one, I´m sure I would have heard of you before.  
Tony could have sworn that the man had just winked at him.  
"I am a hard man to overlook."  
"I´m sure you are."  
Tony grinned. An unexpected turnout, but not an unwelcome one.  
"Listen, we have to clear up this mess, sent back those mythical creatures, but afterwards - what do you say to coffee?"  
"It sounds marvelous."


	13. Appreciation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper drags James to a exhibition of musical instruments

"Piper, you´re scaring me."  
Piper turned around, a grin so broad it had to hurt on his face, and utter, sheer glee in his eyes.  
"It´s instruments, James! Instruments!"  
He grabbed James at the collar and shook him. "Musical instruments!"  
"I get that, it´s just an exhibition."  
"It´s not just an exhibition, it´s the exhibition. The best of my lifetime. Oh, where should we start? Brass? Woodwind? Percussion? Alphabetically? From left to right, north to south?"  
He clapped his hands joyfully.  
James sighed and resigned himself to hours upon hours of walking, getting shown various instruments and predictably boredom, sore feet and sugar cravings.  
"Do we at least steal some of them, or are you just going to look?"  
"James!" Piper said indignantly, "honestly! What kind of person do you take me for?"  
Right, that thing about a conscience...  
"We´re going to steal all of them!"  
James grinned.  
Now that was his Piper.  
Who knew, maybe this day wouldn´t be so bring after all...


	14. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's their perhaps final hour, James and Piper say goodbye and of course James turns it into a dare.

So, this is it.  
Their finest hour.  
Their last stand.  
After this, they will be either dead or legends.

 

The sky is on fire, death rains from above as the aliens start their invasion.  
Sure, they may have superior technology, a fully trained army and an armada of ships in the air, but there is one thing they didn´t count on.  
Pissed off Rogues.

 

The kid gloves are off now.  
What people forget is that Rogues don´t kill - except for few tragic and one not so tragic incident - but their weapons are nothing short of deadly.  
Sub-zero temperatures, fire that melts metal and stone and scorches the very air, access to every reflective surface in the universe, sound waves that can take over people´s mind or crush entire cities, and then the control over weather itself.  
The safety´s off.

 

"Just, take care," James says and looks at Piper, and dislikes how scared his own reflection in Piper´s glasses looks.  
"I´m the Sultan of Sound, remember? I´ll be careful. But you...you watch out, okay?" Piper´s voice is soft and he tries to imbue it with funny wit he doesn´t really feel. "I don´t know what I´d do if anything happened to you."  
"Go on a killing spree until you stand before the alien emperor and then make his head explode?"  
Piper barks a short laugh. "Something like that."  
James has no illusions, he´s pretty much useless in that fight. Aliens invaders aren´t stopped by rubber chickens and yo-yos. None of his inventions are meant to kill, let alone hurt anyone badly. He doesn´t know what to do and that scares him. But what scares him more is the thought of dying.  
But the scariest thing of all, is losing Piper.  
"I´ll survive this if you do, too," he jokes, making a competition out of everything, even fighting in a war.  
"A bet? You´re on, mister."  
He doesn´t know what to do. His hands twitch - does he want to hold Piper, to grab him, to never let him go, or shake his hand and wave farewell?  
Does he want to embrace him like a brother, a friend, like a lover or like whatever the hell they are to each other?  
Piper makes the decision for him. He rests his hands on James´ shoulder and kisses him - softly, chastely, but so full of desperation and hope and love.  
"You realize that this is going to get awkward if at least one of us doesn´t die now?"  
Piper laughs again.  
"After this is over, if you should be dead by then, I´ll spread the rumor that you french-kissed me and confessed your undying love to me. I´ll ruin your reputation, so you better stay alive."  
"If you die, I´ll make them engrave your tombstone with ´Here lies Hartley Rathaway, poof and fan of music icon Hanna Montana."  
"You woudn´t - oh, you so would. It is on, my friend."  
James finally manages to smile.  
He kisses Piper goodbye and is ready to face the music.  
What those aliens didn´t count on as well, was a Trickster in love, which is in itself more powerful than ice, fire or even the forces of nature.


	15. Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues rush James to a hospital after he has sustained a terrible wound

The Rogues were awful nursemaids.  
Pathetic doctors, useless medics and very bad patients.

 

Usually they avoided going to the hospital: suspicious injuries, faked papers and the chance that they would get recognized anyway.  
There´s just this awkward feeling in your gut when you walk into a clinic, claim your name´s Jim McTaggert and look - how did this injuries that look like someone threw a car at me? Oh, and don´t worry about the scrapes and bruises, the scars; oh, and the x-ray will show old fractures.  
Sorry, my usual doctor who has access to my medical history and files is out of town.

 

Also, they were real men and thought they could get through most stuff by sleeping it off. Mostly.

 

Except when it was bad, and they rushed to the hospital, sweatshirt thrown over the costume, maybe the cold gun peaking out of the waistband, maybe the wand still in hand, not realizing that you´re still clutching it in white knuckles, worry and anxiety on the face.

 

They´re in a van, Len with a death-grip on the wheel, stepping on the gas like there´s no tomorrow and if he doesn´t hurry, there won´t be one for James.  
James is on the backseat, lying with his head on Mark´s lap, eyes closed, sweat on his brow, and there is blood on his clothes, on his belly.  
There is blood on his head, in his hair, clashing horribly with the blond.  
"I feel like floating, guys, just swoooooosh and whooooo," he tries to move his arms to emphasize his point with his usual gestures, but they won´t budge, someone put glass into them, at least it feels that way.  
"Like in a cloud, like I´m a cloud. So...peaceful," his voice starts to drop, a serene smile appears on his lips, "so...tired."  
He mustn´t go to sleep, he has to stay awake!  
He´s getting worse by the minute and why won´t these stupid cars go any faster?!  
"I can fly," James whispers, and smiles.  
"Don´t you dare," Digger says, pressing a cloth to his abdomen, trying to put pressure on the wound, "don´t you dare, don´t sleep, don´t leave!"  
James smiles, so happy, so detached and so tired.

 

The Rogues get to the hospital in time, James gets rushed to the E.R..  
He will be fine.  
The Rogues disappear before anyone of the staff can think about paperwork.  
They send Lisa, tell her to pretend she´s the distressed sister, her brother was mugged, but she´s here, she has his i.d. and his insurance information and everything. She only has to pretend for one half, the other is genuine.  
One by one, the Rogues drop by. Not all at once, but never alone.  
They wear hoods, hats, suits that itch and feel fake, Sam even wears a false beard.  
They bring presents from the gift shop, sneak in some decent food and once in a while, break in at night.

 

Rogues are terrible nursemaids, but excellent friends.


	16. The Power of Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues can sing together really well.  
> Naturally, they abuse this once or twice.

After Sam, Digger and Piper had managed to lock themselves into a bank vault, the rest of the Rogues had gathered in front of the vault with beer, reclining chairs and an acappella version of "I told you so". Every barbershop fan would have wept.  
That day, Len, Mark, James and Mick found out that they had a great harmony together.  
That had been the first incident.

 

The second one had been when Sam´s idea of a disco of death required some cosntruction work and the Rogues grudgingly fixed up the old disco.  
At some point, Digger had made a stupid remark about Piper´s parents, Piper had sulked, mind-controlled Digger into punching himself repeatedly and now sat beside that radio of his and played along with the tunes.  
And one by one, the Rogues started to join in.  
Except for Digger who was unconscious, Roy who had deemed himself above menial labor and had not shown up in the first place, and Roscoe and Lisa who were currently in Vancouver "training" for the olympic games.  
Even Piper had to admit that it sounded fantastic.  
And then Sam had come back from installing a mirror ball of doom on the ceiling and asked what the hell was going on and why no one was working anymore.

 

Incident number 3 actually saved their asses.  
They were on their way to a museum to check out if a robbery would be worth it and how the security had changed after their last "visit", when they were approached by the Flash.  
"I know it´s you," he said, "I don´t have prove, but it´s so obvious that it´s you - you´re not fooling anyone. Color coded shirts, really? Honestly, Raider, you couldn´t be more obvious if you tried."  
James was the first to speak. "Dear Sir, we are a respected band from Europe and we will not be treated this way. I will tell the record label what happened here and you will be sure that this will have repercussions on our upcoming tour. We may not want to visit Keystone again."  
"A band? Seriously? You have exactly one musician, you idiots."  
"Gentlemen, a demonstration is in order. Is ´Carry on, my wayward son´ okay?"  
The Rogues nodded. They were nothing if not nonchalant.  
"On my mark, 1, 2, 3, 4.."  
At the end of the song, people were applauding, someone whistled and a group of teenage girl wanted autographs.  
James even made up a fake band name.  
The Flash - who had applauded, too, no matter what he claimed afterwards - had mumbled an apology and ran off embarrassed.  
As soon as Piper was near a computer, he created a fake website, fake biography, made Roy record label appointed band manager, Digger the song writer and himself an emergency musician, and invented a tour schedule.  
He told himself later that he was much too excited about the concept.

 

But still, they never dreamed that the fourth incident would be a music battle against the Music Meister who had taken the thing about using music to fight heroes personally (The Rogues formed a band? And they actually can play? Why are they stealing MY SCHTICK!? Make them STOP!).  
He took it rather badly when the kidnapped audience still voted for the Rogues and their rendition of "Africa".  
As the band had performed, Roscoe and Digger had sneaked up to him, armed with a boomerang, a top that made a very alarming noise and twin grins of the "you poor bastard" variety.

 

They still peform sometimes; not to distract heroes, not to defeat villains, just because they can.


	17. All that glitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neron worms his way into James' head
> 
> (sadly the original had colors, so the text that is normally green is /// brackets)

There is that little voice inside of every person.  
And since most people are different, the little voice comes from different places.  
Some little voices speak from the people´s hearts, some voices speak from the people´s minds, and sometimes it seems as if some little voices come from places far above, from heaven and a bright light.

 

But that is rare, and most of the time, things get lost in translation.

 

And most of the time, people listen to these voices.  
They do the right thing, they do what the voice says.  
"Just apologize to her"  
"Don´t walk by, do something"  
"Stand up to him"  
"The ring has been lying in your pocket for days, just ask him already"  
Sometimes, they don´t.  
Sometimes, it´s almost as if there are two voices, and sometimes, people listen to the wrong one.  
The other voice is more tempting, more alluring, more attractive.  
Or it´s just so loud that the little voice can´t be heard.

 

The Trickster never had problems with his voice.  
He never was in conflict in it; his voice urged him on.  
"Let´s do it!"  
"Run faster!"  
"Ooooh, shiiiiiny"

 

His voice spoke from his heart and they were perfectly in tune.

 

And then, things changed.

 

James Jesse heard the little voice for the first time.  
They first disagreed.

 

"Come on, do it!"

I can´t.

 

"Don´t do it!"

I have to.

 

"Please."

I´m sorry

 

And then, there was another voice.  
And this voice sounded good. It sounded reassuring, comforting...at first.

 

"Don´t!"

I have to

///Do it!///

 

"You know what´s right!"

I do?  
///Clearly, you don´t. See in what mess your supposed right has brought you. See the damage! You have to trust me, I know what´s right. Listen to me.///

I...I

///Just listen to me.///

 

///So what if they hate you? You don´t need their frienship. You need only me. You are nothing without me.///

But-

///Nothing without me.///

 

///Yes, hide. Hide behind a badge, behind a gun, behind a suit. Pretend, fake... you can glitter, but you will never be gold. Listen to me, just listen...///

 

The little voice never really disappeared, it was buried under speeches, litanies, oaths and shallow promises.  
The other voice prevailed.

 

And the little Trickster never noticed that the other voice didn´t come from within; it came from the outside.  
But not the bright heavens, it came from the darkness and the green flames.  
And if the other voice wouldn´t speak to his mind, maybe he would have recognized it for what it was.  
Neron´s lies.


	18. Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadshot messed with the wrong people

With the rest of the Secret Six incapacitated, Deadshot was now facing the figure alone. It seemed to be a mess of shadows, ragged edges and unworldy eyes.  
There was some sound in the air, like a distant shriek.

 

The figure moved closer and it became a man.  
He moved closer and became the Pied Piper.

 

On Deadshot´s tongue were insults, bad jokes and the need to rub salt in the wound that the Trickster´s death doubtlessly had ripped.  
As soon as he looked into Piper´s face, he could speak no word.

 

As it turned out, he would never say anything again.  
Or, in fact, do or be anything at all.

 

There is a line that you do not cross.  
Because when you do, the monsters on the other side will be waiting


	19. Happiness is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues see happiness differently

Drugs are everywhere.  
But drugs aren´t drugs.  
Drugs are marihuana, heroin and lsd; drugs are beer, whiskey and scotch; drugs are cigarettes, pipes and cigars; and then there are things that are just as illegal, just as dangerous, just as addicting.

 

Power, for one.

 

Len doesn´t like drugs. Drugs are what tore apart his family, what made his father an abusive bastard. He beats up Mc Culloch when he sees him doing drugs, he punches Axel for sneaking pills into their hideout. He promises himself that drugs will never again control his life. He takes another sip from his beer bottle. It´s okay though, he can stop anytime he wants. Really.

 

Piper doesn´t like drugs. He doesn´t smoke and barely ever drinks. Yes, once in college, there had been one time where his room mate had given him a drink on a party and then he had danced until he collapsed, but that was it. He punched his room mate, got thrown out of this college and went on to the next college his parents shipped him off to.  
Besides, music, the sheer pleasure of hearing, feeling music, is intoxicating. He will never stop.

 

James doesn´t like drugs. They take away his control, they make him slow, they make him stupid.  
Life is already his greatest adventure, he doesn´t need drugs.  
Not when he is flying, not when he is running, not when he is laughing.


	20. Million sides of the same medaillon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several multiverse Tricksters meet.   
> Hijinks ensue, naturally.

There are more worlds than just one.  
Some say that there are two worlds, perfect mirror images of each other, where everything is the same, just reverse.  
Some say that there are exactly 52 worlds, some similar, some very different.  
Some say that the number of worlds is infinite.  
But all share the same sky, the same heaven, the same hell.

 

So when the Trickster climbs out of hell, a bit singed, but triumphant, grinning and with Neron´s cry of "TRICKSTER!!!!!!!!!!!" as sweet as honey in his ears, he is quite surprised at what he sees.

 

It´s about twenty other blonde heads peaking out of the ground, all surrounded by flames.  
They all look a bit surprised, but soon start grinning.  
It´s the same grin.

 

They have a bit of a problem figuring out what to call each other since everyone insists on being "the Trickster."  
And there are about seven James (or at least seven people who claim to be James), two Janets, two Jerrys (curiously not from the same gender), three Jakes, plus Jack, Jessica, Jahleel, Janine, Janice, Jareth, Jasmin and Jay Jr.

 

Finally, they compare notes.  
What they have in common is the hair (except for Janet A who wears a wig and is a redhead), blue eyes (although Jareth has heterochromia) and the stripes motif (one of the Jacks is a tiger).  
Also, they are all "the Trickster". James the Magnificent had a brief stint where he called himself "Prankster" but then he had gotten a sidekick with a bit of an obsession, and then left Europe and changed his identity.

 

They trade stories over the Flash (or "Lightning Bolt", "Speed", "Velocity" and, in case of Tiger!James, "Road Runner") and laugh a lot.

 

It´s then that Jake Alpha (as opposed to Jake A and Jake the 1st) pulls out his wallet and proudly shows around the photo of his wife. Immediately Janice shows the locket on her necklace where there is a photo of the same woman inside. Both congratulate each other on their respective good tastes.  
James the Awesome shows them a family photo where he has three children on his lap and a wife beside him; it´s a different woman, looks very, very Irish and her genes have apparently joined with James´ to create triplets with curly red, red, red hair, freckles, blue eyes and the gift to wiggle their ears.  
Another James (James Optimus) shows around a photo of himself and a woman that everyone recognizes as Catwoman. Jahleel, another James and other Jake high-five him, apparently having made a very similar choice.  
Jay Jr´s husband is the Flash, creating non-ending embarrasment for him.  
Jerry the Merry has been married thrice already; once in Las Vegas by mistake, once by force to an Arabian prince (she robbed him blind and fled with one of the guards) and once out of love to said guard. They divorced, but found out that they just couldn´t stay away from each other. They claim to be absolutely not dating, but they are. They are also ridiculously in love, complete with serenades sung below windows, self-made pralines and sappy telephone conversations that last for hours. She doesn´t know it yet, but he wanted to ask her to marry him again when she died.  
What they both don´t know is that in the future she will say yes.  
Jasmin is married to an alien whom she claims is the space pope. No one is quite sure if she´s telling the truth.  
Janet is happily married to Booster Gold and has four children with extremely shiny smiles and perfect hair. James the Amazing has three wives, but that´s customary on his world. His first wife has twelve husbands, his second two and one of her husbands is also the fourth husband of James´ third wife. James is planning to marry again, this time his second wife´s first husband.  
Jerry has just split up with his girlfriend and crashing on Piper´s couch, lamenting all day and night about how great Lisa was and what the hell she sees in that Roscoe anyway.  
James, this James, talks about Mindy and his son, the messiah; no one of the others has a god for a son.  
(One has a half-demon, but that´s what you get for hooking up with Blue Devil.)  
But, he is also the only one who does not have a significant other. Or, in one case, others.  
He plans on fixing this.  
As soon as they figure out how to get back into their respective universes, possibly without taking the highway to hell.  
(and since they are Trickster, with taking the scenic route, a few stops on the way and with leaving as much chaos in their wake as possible)  
They´ll figure out how.  
It takes one Trickster to escape hell.  
Think about just what twenty of them can do when they work together


	21. Territorium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally is a bit embarrassed of his Rogues when he shows Dick the Flash Museum.  
> In the end, he's glad that he has them.

Wally was excited and a bit embarrassed. Dick was coming to visit. They´d meet as heroes in his city. His territory. On his home turf, he could show Dick the museum, tell him about his adventures and his vicious Rogues gallery.  
And that was where the embarrassed-part set in.

Compared to Mr Freeze, the Scarecrow or the Joker, his Rogues gallery was ... tame. Well, not exactly tame, but...he didn´t know how to describe it.  
Dick fought in a city of gargoyles, of shadows and madness...and he had just fought a guy who had planted banana peels all over Madison boulevard and yelled "Chicken - bock bock bock - chicken!"  
How was he supposed to compare? How could he measure up to his friend?

Robin arrived, they went to visit the museum, Dexter greeted them, ruffled Wally´s hair and bought two of Captain Cold´s Chilly Chocolate Cornettos for them. Wally remembered the batcave, remembered the dark, looming figure...

Outside, something went "Boom!" and pink smoke arose.  
Wally and Dick - no, Kid Flash and Robin - raced outside and surveyed the situation. Wally felt like banging his head against a wall. The Trickster, after his banana plan had failed, had apparently decided to attack the museum with ... cotton candy. A wall of pink cotton candy surrounded the museum. The Trickster stood high in the air above it, laughing, cape billowing in the wind. "You´re trapped, Flash! You´ll never escape my cotton candy condundrum!"  
Robin´s eyes narrowed dangerously.  
The Trickster, who had apparently just noticed that the Flash wasn´t there, paused. "Baby Flash, where´s Flash?"  
"It´s KID Flash, not Baby Flash!"  
"You say tomato..." the Trickster trailed off. He looked a bit sheepish, fiddling with the edge of his cape in mid-air. "Well, fastest man alive...he´ll be here, right?"  
A batarang smashed into his skull, knocking him out of the air onto a parked car.  
"Ow!"  
"I don´t like clowns," Robin growled. He walked up to the Trickster who was peeling himself off the hood of a red chevrolet.  
"I´m an aerialist," the Trickster countered.  
As if to demonstrate, he did a backflip and cartwheeled backwards.  
Even with superspeed and the ability to process input at incredibly high speed, Wally was impressed.  
"You are going to release the people trapped in here," Robin said, "and I´ll make sure your poisoned candy won´t harm anyone!"  
"Poison? Dude, it´s cotton candy!"  
"It´s what the Joker would do. I don´t trust you."  
Both Wally and the Trickster looked at him surprised.  
"He´s not the Joker!" Wally said, "the Trickster wouldn´t hurt people."  
"You sure?"  
"Robin, you´re not in Gotham. The Rogues aren´t dangerous psychopaths who murder people for fun. This guy-" he pointed at the Trickster who was gingerly touching his nose, muttering that it was broken - "throws rubber chickens at people."  
Robin growled and Wally was reminded of Batman in a very unpleasant way.  
"I´ll show you," Wally said. He zipped over to the wall of pink cotton candy, tore off a chunk and while Robin yelled "No!" placed it in his mouth.  
Wally smacked his lips. "Oh my god, is that cheery flavored?"  
The Trickster looked oddly proud. "This side, yes; the backwall is raspberry."  
Robin looked at him. "So, it´s not poisoned?"  
"Nope."  
"No hidden razorblades or wire in there?"  
"Umm...noooo," the Trickster replied, tone indicating that this was a horrible thing to ask.  
"Not infected with bacteria or viri, nanobots or drugs?"  
The Trickster was speechless.  
He turned to Wally who definetely had not been eating a man-sized hole in the wall in the meantime. "Do people in Gotham really do that?"  
Wally nodded.  
"That´s awful!" He sounded rightfully angry. "How can somebody do something like that?!"  
"Aren´t you the supervillain around here?" Robin asked.  
"Well, yes, but there´s a difference between robbing the museum fast food area because we´ve run out of Captain Cold´s Chilly Chocolate Caramell Cornettos and ...that!" he gestured in Robin´s direction, trying to imitate the horrors of Gotham´s underworld by flapping his arms helplessly. "Baby Flash, arrest me now, please. I think I´ve had enough for one day."  
"Um...okay," Wally said and walked over to the Trickster. "Where´s your exit?"  
"My god, it´s cotton candy, just walk through it."

The Trickster threw a last glance over at Robin who stared at him with folded arms. "People from Gotham are weird," he said. Wally looked at the man in the bright striped tights, wearing pixie boots and a cape, remembered their encounters which were dominated by laughs, ridiculous puns and rubber chickens, and agreed.

Wally made sure he had wiped the last traces of the candy off his face as he walked back to Robin.  
"So, the cotton candy was...just cotton candy."  
"Yes."  
"Nothing harmful at all?"  
"Well, the parts of the candy surrounding the exits were broccoli-flavored, so people wouldn´t try to eat their way out."  
"And he really wanted to rob the fast food stand?"  
"Um..." Wally rubbed his neck, sheepishly, "actually he was just the distraction. I found out later that the Mirror Master had been robbing the stand while we were outside."  
"Your Rogues are weird."  
Wally agreed. And he wouldn´t change them for anything.


	22. Rule Britannia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Piper meet their counterparts from the other universe where everyone is British.

"I say, dear chap, I find this disturbing. They are tremendously unsophisticated."  
JJ wasn´t in the least bit racist. He didn´t discriminate people, not because of race, religion, sexual orientation or bad decisions made.  
But right now, he felt a deep and smoldering hatred against anything British.  
Piper´s counterpart nodded.  
"They are so gauche; no style at all," JJ´s counterpart went on.

Piper´s hand tightened around the flute. In his hands, it was a musical instrument, a means to enslave people´s minds and a weapon for mass destruction. Right now, however, it was just another blunt instrument meant for bashing in skulls.

The Trickster looked at his counterpart from another world, where the British Empire had never fallen. Everyone spoke with a British accent, everyone drove on the left side of the road and seemed addicted to tea. The other person looked like him, the body a perfect duplicate, but the mind - the Jolly Gentleman was pretentious, arrogant and downright hurtful. He wore a finely tailored suit, a silk shirt, a waistcoat, a cravat - really, a cravat - and walked around with a cane.  
Oh, JJ saw through all that. He heard the working class accent, he saw the callouses, he felt the rough childhood and he saw the Jolly Gentleman for what he was - a mask.  
"At least I´m proud of where I come from. I may just be a carny kid, but I´m an awesome carny kid." He smiled at the Jolly Gentleman and he saw the mask crack.  
"That´s it, you twat!"  
JJ preferred to leave physical violence to others, but at this moment, he enjoyed it.

At least his counterpart was far more tolerable than JJ´s, Piper thought. He had never seen JJ beat someone up with a rubber chicken and looking so happy about it before. His counterpart - the Harmonious Highlander - belched and put a hand on his shoulder. It felt like a bear paw crushing him.  
"Aye, lass, why don´t you get old Harry here another whiskey, m´dear?"  
"For the last time, I´m not a woman, I´m you!"  
Harry the Highlander made a rather nauhty joke involving his kilt, Piper blushed and secretly wished that his counterpart had been a snooty aristocrat instead of a rude barbarian who reminded him far too much of Digger.


	23. Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James meets his DCAU counterpart

JJ had pretty much resigned to the fact that life was weird.  
But, he knew how to deal with that. He had lived his life for twenty-something years now; he knew what to expect.

But other lives...those were a whole other story.

He wandered around aimlessly, wishing for a can to kick around until he remembered that he could hardly do that while he was still walking around several feet above the ground.  
The wind whipped his hair in his face. He pushed a few errant strands behind his ears. Should he cut his hair again? His ponytail was reaching his shoulderblades now. He wrapped the jacket tighter around himself. All new Trickster for an all new decade. Boots, leather jacket - he had thought about accessories like piercings or tattoos but discarded the idea very quickly. Not what had happened to Sam after his then-girlfriend had convinced him to pierce his ear. Piper had looked at Sam and then had started laughing so hard he had to sit down. Apparently, there was a straight ear and a gay ear and Sam had picked the wrong one.  
He missed Sam. He missed Roscoe. Roscoe would have some plan, something to do; even if it was just his favorite "Take over the world with my submachine gun top" plan. He had been nothing if not ambitious.

JJ looked up to the sky. He sighed.  
Suddenly, the sky lurched. It seemed bent out of shape, like there was a giant crushing it into a ball. The little specks of light, the stars, became lines, became spirals. JJ felt himself scream, but couldn´t hear anything. Then it stopped. He looked around. It was day. He was in front of an office building, standing roughly at the height of the - he counted quickly - 15th floor. He waved at the brunette woman staring at him. He smiled and took a swan dive towards the ground before he stopped. This was weird. This was weird-weird.

He heard metal clanking, huge thundering steps and then people screamed in fear. The ground vibrated in the rhythm of giant footsteps. His jaw dropped. An enormous robot walked through the city like a bizarre Godzilla imitation. People fled in terror. He stood still.  
There! A scarlet blur at the feet of the robot.  
"Target acquired. Subject: Flash. Objective: Termination!" a voice boomed - flat, emotionless.  
He grinned. Something to do.

"Hey, hello there!"  
Yelling at the robot hadn´t been his brightest idea.  
But it did stop shooting at the Flash and moved his head towards him.  
"New target acquired. Subject: unknown. Error. Subject: unknown. Error."  
"Don´t be like that," he chided the robot. He constructed a mental inventory of his ressources - yoyo, bag with itching powder, wallet with fake id, bus ticket, cough drops, a pair of chopsticks, boxing glove on a spring and aha! his "special" chewing gum. It was incredibly gooey, incredibly sticky and practically impossible to get rid off. Unless you had the solvent - root beer - which he doubted the robot would have handy.  
"Oh, look down there, isn´t that the Flash?" he asked the robot.  
The robot made the mistake of looking down. Quickly, JJ pulled out the gum and pounced on the robot. He jammed two stripes over the robot´s eyes, one to his chest and yelled "Catch me if you can!"  
The robot whic still spouted that "subject unknown" line just re-classified him as a threat and reached for him with his hands. JJ danced out of the way elegantly and the robot grabbed his own face. It peeled his hand away, but there was pink goo sticking to it like stringy cheese on a slice of pizza. And it wouldn´t stop. The more the robot struggled, the more it became tangled in the strands of pink goo. "Vision impaired, mobility impaired. Assistance required!"  
A blue blur connected with the robot´s side and knocked it down. Superman! An unusual but in this case not unwelcome presence.  
JJ descended to ground level where the Flash stopped in front of him.  
"James! Are you alright?"  
"Yes, just dandy."  
"You...flew?"  
"Don´t sound so surprised. The shoes are new, but of course I won´t give up on the comfort of air travel." He flashed a grin.  
"James, I..- you´re wearing the suit again," the Flash sounded concerned.  
"First, this is not a suit; leather jacket and pants don´t qualify as a suit. Second, I can´t wear it again, these threads are brand new."  
"No, James, listen, it´s the suit. Look, the stripes."  
"Flash, I am aware of what I am wearing. Contrary to popular opinion, I actually do look in a mirror after I dressed myself."  
"Well, that´s um...good, I guess. And hey, you finally got that pink out of your hair. Have you done something to your hair? Looks different."  
"What are you talking about?"  
"James, you´re not well..."  
"I am well, you´re the one spouting nonsense."  
"James, please, just listen..."Then the Flash narrowed his eyes. "You´re different altogether. Not just the hair or the costume..." suddenly JJ was smahed into a wall. "Who are you?"  
"I am the Trickster! The question is...who are you?"

 

"So...parallel universe, huh?"  
"Happens more often than you´d think."

 

"I want to see me. The other me, I mean."

 

JJ looked at the other Trickster. He was in a room, playing table soccer with the Flash and wore one of those hospital gowns... he was wrong. Everything about him felt wrong. His hair looked like he cut it himself with a pair of scissors, there were patches of pink in his hair and there were deep lines on his face. His skin color... was wrong. He looked too old. He looked...unwell.  
The Flash came out of the room.  
"Still want to meet you?"  
"Yes, but I´m not sure if it´s a good idea. What if I confuse him...me? I don´t want to make things worse." He ran his fingers through his hair.  
"James Jesse, thinking before acting? You really must be from another world."  
JJ´s smile didn´t reach his eyes.  
"You know," he said, "ever since I started this, there were people comparing me to the Joker. They said that the Joker was me if I became crazy. My gadgets, combined with insanity, that´s....that would be bad. I swore that it would never come to that. And now there´s a me who is crazy. It´s...frightening."  
"Relax," the Flash smiled, "he´s not dangerous. And he´s certainly nothing like the Joker." He deliberately didn´t mention the incident with the juggling and the chainsaws. James had meant well, after all.  
It was strange for him as well. To see a James who always know what he wore, who didn´t dye his hair on a whim, who was...so different.  
And yes, handsome. He hadn´t looked deliberately, but he had noticed the muscles and the smile. He looked younger than James, but his eyes were older.  
"It could be worse: my last counterpart died and that plunged the world into an apocalyptic future full of superpowered dictators."  
"Okay, I guess a me who is one card short of a full deck isn´t so bad in comparison."  
"That´s the spirit."

And really, it wasn´t so bad. This James had a weird sense of humor, but he was a great guy. After a while, JJ forgot that this James was on medication and that they were in a psych ward, and that this was not his world.  
He also may or may not have given James some clues on how to work on his own airwalkers.  
Other James was okay.  
But polka dots and stripes? At least JJ knew where to draw the line.


	24. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth and lies

Honesty is a simple thing.  
You just tell the truth and that´s it.

Well, unless you care about people.  
Then it becomes difficult.

Because sometimes, saying nothing or omitting things, is more kind.  
"So, what did you do tonight?"  
"Went out with friends, saw that new monster movie. My friend Dan spilled some soda in the backseat, but I´ll clean it up later."  
You don´t tell your dad that a truck driver was on his cellphone, didn´t pay attention and nearly hit your car. You´re fine and he would just worry.

And then, there are the good lies. The lies you make to protect and help people.  
"Do you think I can do this?" "Of course!"  
You don´t really think he´ll get the job, but you still encourage him and tell him to go to the interview and give his best. And he actually has enough confidence that he gets the job.  
That lie didn´t hurt, right?

A woman lies dying. In a few hours, she will be dead. Her wife tells her that she loves her. The woman dies in the knowledge of being loved. Her wife has cheated on her for years.  
But that lie...that was a good lie, right?

Honesty is easy.  
Caring is difficult.  
Finding the balance is...tricky.

Which is good if you are a Trickster.

So, the Flash asks you about the loot from the last museum heist.  
You tell him about the jewels hidden in the fridge and the rings hidden in a popcorn bowl.  
You don´t tell him about the earring Len pawned to get Lisa a ticket to the olympics.  
It´s just a little ommission, right?

When your friends went through hell and back and you sat down and talked, you nurse a beer and tell them all about defeating Neron.  
Well, not all - you didn´t tell them that for one moment, you were tempted, that you listened to what he had to say and that you were weak. Because you´re just plain old silly JJ, nothing has changed. They need a bit of normalcy now. You don´t feel normal.  
That lie helps, right?

After the kid dies and you´re on the run, you lie a lot. You have to be strong, you have to be rough to survive. You have to fight everyone, even Piper. Because you´re strong, you´re confident, because you have a plan, because you can deal with it. Those mean little lies you tell Piper - they hurt, they´re not kind, but he doesn´t need kindness now. He needs you to be strong, or he´ll break down. So you lie. So you push when you actually want to pull Piper closer. You make a bad joke about his feelings when you yourself are on the verge of tears. You mutter slurs when all you want is to be hugged. You haven´t been yourself in weeks. The constant lying...you´d think it would become easier, but it just gets harder with every lie. You have to pull through, for Piper.

Honesty is easy.  
It´s the caring that kills you.  
Literally.


	25. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vague Young Justice animated series universe wherein James and Piper are roughly Wally's age

"You can´t rob this place!"  
"Why not?"  
"We were here first!"  
"Is this a kindergarten?"  
"No, but this is Keystone. You´re from Gotham. Get off our turf!"

At first, the attendants of the Annual Spring Keystone Charity Ball had cowered in fear, had screamed and whimpered but now they were watching the spectacle as other people may watch a tennis match.

"Cheap knockoff!"  
"You´re the knockoff, I had this gig first!"  
"How? You´re barely old enough to shave. Half your crew looks like they should be in highschool!"  
"We have experience, age doesn´t matter!"  
"The hell it doesn´t!"

The world did have more people with ice-related powers than just Mr Freeze and Captain Cold, but they had both conveniently forgotten that fact.  
Both men did not get along. And now since they had tried to rob the same event, they got along even less. While they insulted and threatened each other, Freeze´s henchmen and the rest of the Rogues stood around somewhat lost. All of them knew better than to interfere - with the tempers boiling like that, fingers trigger happy - it was basically assisted suicide.

While the henchmen blocked the doors and looked menacingly at anyone who moved, the Rogues had given up on outward appearances. Captain Boomerang had commandeered a plate full of champagne flutes and knocked back a drink everytime Freeze or Cold made an ice-related pun. He was merrily drunk after 10 minutes. Heat Wave stood awkwardly besides a group of young women. In their midst was the lead actress of his favorite tv series and he was pondering whether it would be okay to ask her for an autograph. Clearly, the Weather Wizard had no such inhibitions: he´d been flirting with one of the waitresses ever since the fight had started. She flirted back quite enthusiastically.  
If any of the attendants would have had superhearing, they would hear a faint "Crap" every now and then. The Rainbow Raider had sneaked to the first floor and was evaluating the art collection. He couldn´t help but to improve some of them with the magic marker the Trickster had lent him.  
The Top was deep in discussion with an elderly man about politics. The man was nearly blind and thus didn´t notice that he was talking with a criminal who had planned to rob all the guests. He thought that he was just having a pleasant debate with an intelligent young man about the lack of change and dynamic in the government.  
The Mirror Master was pointing his gun at the henchmen. He was also guarding the back exit. As well as several windows. There were 27 Mirror Masters in the mansion. The real Mirror Master had stayed at home since he had sprained his ankle the week before. He was watching football.

"Are they quite done yet?" Rachel Rathaway asked irritatedly. The evening had been ruined already before the criminals had arrived. It was getting worse and worse. She watched with annoyance as the two men in blue yelled at each other with words she had never heard before. At least the man from Gotham showed some class: he had brought his own army, equipped with weapons and representing a united front. She was doubly ashamed when she compared them to the bunch of colorblind maniacs that called itself "The Rogues". At least Hartley hadn´t been there to embarrass her again. She hated it when he showed up at events, snarled in her face about how she had never understood, about how bad he had been treated and how he´d make society pay. She sighed every time. Of course she had had her rebellious phase, too, when she had been a teenager. But she had spent a semester in France and had a love affair with her tutor, not donned a ridiculous costume and start robbing people. He´d come to his senses eventually, but hopefully before their reputation was ruined irreperabaly.  
She watched around. The bickering still went on, now punctuated by light shoves and insults to the participants´ mothers. Their mothers should really be ashamed of themselves.

She spotted that young man her son seemed particularly attached to, the Clown. No, not clown, but something like that. Something to do with pun, or joke maybe? Ah, no, the Trickster.  
He looked a bit forlorn, as if he didn´t know what to do. She decided to talk to him. Maybe she´d hear from her son. It would be nice to hear something other than police reports about him.  
Her steps were accompanied by the sharp clicks of her high heels as she walked over to where he was sitting on the stairs.  
He looked up. "Ma`m," he greeted her. She hadn´t expected this politeness from a man whom she had seen last week in the news, bombarding policemen with spitballs. But...she looked closer. Man was too much of a word. Up close, he was younger than she thought. He couldn´t have been older than her own son, maybe younger even. Captain Cold seemed to be the oldest of the Rogues; and he was closer to twenty than thirty. This Trickster - she doubted if he was old enough to drive.  
"Are your robberies always this eventful?" she asked.  
He looked up and gave her a smile. It was a nice, handsome smile and she felt a surge of affection for the teenager.  
"That depends, ma`m; with the Flash showing up it would probably be messier. Or at least it would be quicker."  
"They have been going on for," she glanced at the grandfather clock near the wall," good lord, 22 minutes. I never suspected to hear such a rich vocabulary coming from," she paused for a moment, considering her company "such men."  
"Every man has hidden qualities; some have a heart of gold underneath a rough exterior, and some just have a rougher core filled with an arsenal of curse words."  
"It is definetely the second option here," she said.  
"I wouldn´t be too sure of that. Your son is sticking with us for a reason."  
So he had recognized her.  
"That reason is teenage rebellion. How foolish. But he will come to his senses, eventually."  
"Piper is-"  
"Hartley. His name is Hartley, not that ridiculous moniker."  
"I can see why he prefers Piper," the teenager retorted. She ought to feel insulted, but it was surprisingly hard to do when he still smiled like that. "Piper is hip-deep in his rebellious phase. Pair that with his socialism, Robin Hood streak and desire to act out, and you will have to wait a long time before he just snaps out of it. Provided it is a phase and just his choice of life. My own identity crisis lasted for some time but the end result was worth it."  
She let out a brief laugh. He looked at her confused.  
"Son, I don´t think you are old enough to drive a car, let alone have an identity crisis."  
"I´ll take that as a compliment for my youthful charm."  
"You do that."  
They watched the scene. Heat Wave had asked for his autograph. He had gotten it, along with a scribbled telephone number and a lipstick stain on his cowl. The Rainbow Raider had threatened the band to resume playing (not that they needed threatening; they were bored and glad for something to do except to watch two supervillains spew more and more childish insults) and soft jazz filled the room. The waitress had dragged the Weather Wizard into a painfully off-beat waltz. Meanwhile, the old man was discussing a possible career in politics with the charming young man who understood exactly what this country needed right now. The Mirror Master at home was eating pizza while his doubles still stood guard. They had lost Captain Boomerang some time between the 23 and 24th flute of champagne.  
"Where is my son?" Rachel asked, "this would be an ideal opportunity for him to rob from the rich and to rub it in our faces. I was almost certain I´d see him here today."  
"He was going to come, but," the teenager paused, "there were other things that he needed to take care of."  
That didn´t sound good.  
"What things?"  
"The rebellious phase we talked about? Like I said, he´s really deep into it. And, uh, things came up."  
"Things?"  
"You know, stuff. All part of a proper teenage rebellion."  
"Like, resentment of parents, scorning society, leather jackets, ear rings and dating bad boys?"  
"That sounds remarkably like you´re talking from experience."  
"I was a teenager, too, once. Just... is he okay?"  
He stood up. On the stairs, he was now taller than her. "I think you need to talk to the Captain. Just wait a second."  
She had wanted to say "Wait!" but he was already gone. He tapped the Captain on the shoulder, announced that he´d take over for a while and sent the Captain to the stairs. And to her amazement, it worked.  
Mr Freeze looked a bit puzzled. But he was quickly drawn back into the fight when the Trickster called him a sorry excuse for a popsicle. No one quite noticed that the Trickster rose into the air, inch by inch, until his face was at the same level as Freeze´s.  
"Captain," she greeted him.  
"Mrs Rathaway."  
"You know who I am?"  
"I´ve seen Pipes yelling at you his communist crap often enough. Also, the hair´s a bit of a giveaway."  
"Quite right. Your young associate-"  
"You´re talking ´bout Tricks?"  
"Yes. We were talking about Hartley and - is he okay?"  
"What has he been telling you?"  
"Nothing, just that my son wanted to come but couldn´t, and that I´d better talk to you. Lord knows why, you must be the worst role model I´ve ever seen,"  
"Listen, lady. You´re his mom so I understand why you´re saying that. But, us Rogues, we stick together. If anyone harms one of us, he has to deal with all of us."  
"Is he hurt?"  
"I won´t lie, lady. He has been better. Had a fight with his lover, well now ex-lover, I guess. Guy has got quite a temper. His fist slipped. And we, uh, " he mumbled something intellegible.  
"What?" she asked with a tone of authority only parents can use.  
"We kinda threw him off a bridge. Onto a garbage boat. We also may have redecorated his face. A bit."  
"But Hartley-"  
"Nah, the kid´s fine. It´s more emotional if you ask me. Or he didn´t want to be seen with a black eye."  
Relief washed over her like a hot wave. She sat down on the stairs herself.  
"You´re okay, lady?"  
"Yes, I´m just... I am glad he´s alright. Would you...would you deliver a message?"  
"That depends."  
"Please just tell him that... he is still my son, no matter what."  
"I can do that."  
He straightened up.  
"Just, one more thing, Captain,"  
"Yes?"  
"Why didn´t that young man tell me that himself? Surely he knew-"  
"Tricks? He was the first to notice that something´s off. He also delivered a very frightening speech about promising worlds of pain if Earl ever showed his ugly mug again. That kid can be scary if he wants to."  
"Then, why didn´t he tell me?"  
"The way I see it, he just wanted to bring a little distance between you and him before you noticed that he stole your jewelry."  
"My - what?!" Her fingers went to her neck and then her ears. Her pearl necklace! The earrings. But - how?  
"Rally the Rogues!" the Trickster yelled and all hell broke lose. Like a stampede of wild animals the Rogues tore through the hall. They grabbed what they could without slowing down and headed for the balcony doors. The closed balcony doors. Rachel tensed, awaiting the shattering of glass and screams of pain. Nothing happened. The Rogues ran into the glass doors and vanished into them. The henchmen tried to repeat that trick, but they ran against the door and then it shattered.  
Finally, sirens could be heard. As if on cue, the Kid Flash showed up.  
"Everything alright?"  
Rachel thought for a brief moment.  
"Yes," she said, "everything is quite alright."  
Maybe she did not approve of Hartley´s friends, but they seemed to care about him a great deal.  
As she collected her coat and stepped outside for fresh air, she made a mental note to hire a private detective to find out who exactly that "Earl" guy was and how she could make sure that he wouldn´t bother Hartley again.


	26. Aliens and hairspray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> actually, the title says it all

"We could have died! DIED!"  
"But we didn´t!"  
"You´re an idiot!"  
"But who is the bigger idiot: the idiot, or the idiot who needed to be saved by the first idiot?"  
"I was doing fine until you showed up!"  
"They were about to eat you!"  
"That is a valid excuse for threatening an alien army with a can of hair spray and a lighter?"  
"Yes!"

"Don´t let Mick hear that, he´ll have a field day."  
"No promises."  
"Honestly, JJ, I don´t know whether to kiss or kill you."  
"We could always compromise and settle for a little death, no?"  
"Are you coming on to me?"  
"Depends, is it working?"  
"Why don´t you come here and we´ll find out?"


	27. The strangeness of being normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Piper lead a normal life...mostly

It was funny, in a way. Piper stared at the clock on the other wall. He´d been in the hallway for 15 minutes now. He looked down at his hands. They itched for a flute, a clarinet, for the strings of his harp, hell, even for a harmonica. This was unfamiliar territory. Supervillains he knew, superheroes he knew, alien invasions and infernal demons he knew, but the mundane... He didn´t do "normal". He wasn´t normal.  
Still, he had grown used to it. Grown used to wake up at 6 when James got up and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Grown used to roll around for another half hour, then get up, check on the kids, go to the bathroom, steal James´ coffee. Stand around while James made school lunches, avoid the puppy that attacked his legs with the determination of a starved cannibal, get Billy out of bed, return after five minutes to get Billy out of bed again, ... he never had to deal with grocery shopping, with minivans, visits from his parents who still disapproved of his haircut, James and his career, and spoiled Billy and Loreley rotten despite him telling them not to every damn time.  
He had to deal with legitimate paperwork, with schools and report cards.  
And now with visits to the headmaster´s office.  
He didn´t like physical violence and certainly did not approve of his son using it. Still, he felt oddly proud that his son had beaten up a tenth grader who was built like a semi-truck.  
Better yet, he had only done it after the bully had insulted their family.  
He really shouldn´t be entering that office with a grin on his face now.  
He breathed deeply, schooled his expression into displaying a neutral facade and mentally went through his shcedule for the day.  
Pick up the kids from school, stop for milk on the way home and prevent James from egging that bully´s house.

Huh.

Maybe they weren´t as normal as he´d thought.  
Or being normal was just much stranger than he had anticipated.


	28. Villain's Etiquette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why the Rogues don't have henchmen

"It´s just the...respect, you know?" Sam drawled.  
Mark made a sound that was meant to express sympathy and sounded vaguely like "Huhana" and stared at his empty beer glass.  
"It´s like, they don´t take us seriously. And just because of that stupid, stupid thing. It´s just unfair, you know?"  
JJ´s head appeared upside-down over the back of the sofa.  
"What´s unfair?"  
"Our reputation. The other supervillains thinks we´re just a bunch of nobodies. We control the elements, man, and nobody takes us seriously. It´s like we´re a bunch of kindergarteners playing with college students. We´re like...the playhouse of evil and they´re the University of Evil."  
"But we like being the playhouse of evil: no pressure, no take-over-the-world plans, no serious injuries, ..."  
"I know, and we´re good at what we do. It´s just... I don´t want to have to start killing people to have people look at us with respect. That´s not who we are."  
"It´s not the degree of violence," JJ said with more clearness than a drunken man should have, "it´s the style. We don´t have extravagant headquarters in volcanos or underground facilities in the desert. Others do. We don´t have an army of henchmen in color-coded uniforms. They do. We don´t have pet mascots. They do. They just don´t like that we have other standards. We don´t need grand secret bases. We don´t need henchmen. But they do and that makes them mad. Face it, Sammy-boy, we work best when we stick together, act out of an abandoned ware house and annoy the Flash."  
Sam smiled. "Can you imagine us, sitting in a room made of metal and glass, like a conference room with a glass table and silver chairs? In a volcano, with electrified fences?"  
"And cats! Everyone of us pretending to be a James Bond villain," Mark piped in.  
"And henchmen!" JJ insisted.  
"Nah, we could never figure out how to dress them...or what to call them."  
"The Icicles! The Sparks! Ember and Ash! Twisters!"  
They laughed.  
"I had henchmen once," a quiet voice said.  
They turned to face Piper who seemed to talk more to his wine glass than them.  
"In the early, early days. I hypnotized some guys from the army. Mostly, I used them to carry the loot for me."  
"What happened?"  
"Bank job. One of them slipped. A normal man would have cushioned his fall, would have rolled, would have protected himself. It wasn´t that serious, but he fell onto his face, broke his nose, there was blood just everywhere. I abandoned the plan and the heist, I just ran. Now, I just don´t want to drag other people into my mess."  
They were silent after that.  
"And what about us?" Mark asked.  
"Hey, you drag me into your messes. You´d be screwed without me."  
They laughed.  
JJ sat up straight and swayed as the blood flowed back into his body.  
"Hey, Piper?"  
"Yes?"  
A mischievous grin.  
"What did you call them?"  
Piper groaned and his his face in his hands.  
"Chromatic Criminals."


	29. Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues and their families...and their real family

None of the Rogues had really ever been to a family reunion.  
None of them really had family to be reunited with.

Those who still had living relatives didn´t particularly want to meet them again.

Mark´s parents who had always preferred Clyde; the parents with the one son and the one black sheep. Clyde had always been the center of their attention without every trying to. And now that he was dead, their parents had one dead son and his absence was so big that it left no place for Mark.

 

Mr and Mrs Dillon didn´t have a son.  
That was the tight-lipped answer they gave whenever someone brought the subject up. Mr Dillon´s eyes became hard and cold as steel. Mrs Dillon turned her head away and politely told people to leave.  
They had never had a son.

Mr Snart did have two useless brats. He claimed he was better off without them. Everyone who knew him knew that it was really the kids who were better off without him. Ms Larson, formerly Mrs Snart, had had two children. They hadn´t been enough reason to stay, they weren´t enough reason to come back.

Mr Wiggins never had children, and just where had you heard such nonsense?

Mr Bivolo had had a son he loved more than anything. But sadly, Roy didn´t have a father anymore.

The Scudders son? He emigrated to New Zealand, hadn´t you heard? His mother did complain from time to time that he never visited. Secretly, they hoped he´d never show his face again.

The Flying Jesses had been a stage family. All smiles in the air and in front of the audience which vanished as soon as no one was looking. The Giuseppes consisted of a good-for-nothing boy who had his head in the clouds, a father who believed himself to be god´s gift to all women and a mother who suffered in silence. Eventually, the boy left. As the circus later split up, Mr Giuseppe went one way, Mrs Giuseppe the other.

Osgood and Rachel Rathaway did have two children. Both failures.

So when thanksgiving came around, and the people of Keystone and Central City prepared for festivities, a feast and a chance to meet their families, the Rogues didn´t do anything.  
And there was a certain emptiness in those days. The TV showed kitschy films about families and the importance of being together, the stores were filled with decorations and advertisment and the people chatted excitedly. But none of the Rogues really did feel anything, besides regret, sadness and a longing they´d never known existed.

And though neither of them had made a conscious decision, they all met. Purely by chance, they´d rather claim.  
So what if they didn´t have a turkey?  
And if they didn´t have decorations?  
And if they didn´t have their families?

They had each other.  
And that was more than enough.  
So, in a way, they did have their family after all.


	30. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper's little sister Jerrie visits the Rogues.   
> All in all, it could have been much worse.

Ms Lisa had been nice to her. All of Hartley´s friends were, so she didn´t get why he fussed so much.  
She had heard so much about his friends on the news so she had decided to meet them. So she had hidden in the trunk of his car after one of his secret visits.

It was funny to see Hartley´s face turn almost as red as his hair. He was flapping his arms wildly and yelling at a man, sometimes he´d point at her and then at the man accusingly. She sat on a couch, sipped on a cocoa the funny man had brought her and watched Hartley stab the man in the chest with his finger and hiss at him.  
Outside raged the mother of all thunderstorms.  
"Why is Hartley so mad at him?" she asked Ms Lisa who sat next to her. Ms Lisa brushed her hair over her shoulder and smiled.  
"B. B. S."  
"What is B.B.S.?" Jerrie asked.  
"Big Brother Syndrome. Piper is going crazy with worry. And that man over there," she pointed with her perfectly manicured finger at the man whom Hartley was yelling at," is trying to calm him down. Or at least wait until he runs out of steam, whichever comes first. Piper wants to keep you safe, and he thinks that this is not the best place for you."

Jerrie had to agree with that one: someone had drawn on the wall, someone, presumably another someone, had set up a chemistry set in one corner of the room which was producing faint green smoke and there was a cloud floating next to the lamp in the ceiling.  
"But I am safe here, aren´t I?" It wasn´t a particularly nice place, but it seemed okay. And it couldn´t be too bad if Hartley was here.  
Ms Lisa ruffled her hair.  
"Of course, darling. But he´s your big brother, he can´t help but worry. He´d make a fuss even if you were at Fort Know, protected by every army on the planet."  
Jerrie looked at Ms Lisa and smiled. She sipped from the now cold cocoa and watched as Hartley yelled on. He looked oddly like mother.  
"How do you know about BBS?"  
"Easy. The man your brother is yelling at? That´s my big brother. He used to do this to me all the time. He tried to chase away the boys I was going out with, he threatened people who looked at me funny and he insisted on walking me home from school every day. And to skating practice. Sometimes," a fond little smile appeared on her face, "he´d sneak after me when I was going out. Or he stayed awake at home and sat next to phone, waiting for me to call to tell him when to pick me up."  
"Isn´t that a bit...tedious?"  
"Oh, hell yeah, but I understand now that he did it to protect me. It´s just his way of showing that he cares. Even if he did ruin my social life that one year in high school."  
"Does he still do that?"  
"Oh no, I´ve convinced him otherwise."  
"How?"  
"Kicked him in the shin and told him to let my live my own life." There had been screaming involved and a rather painful confession from Lenny, but she wasn´t about to tell anyone that.  
She looked at Ms Lisa. She was smart, confident and somehow still graceful.  
So, Jerrie made a decision.  
She got up, walked up to Hartley, kicked him in the shin and said "Let me live my own life."  
Lisa started laughing.  
He looked at Jerrie confused, then to where she had sat, then to Lisa.  
"She´s been here for an hour and already you´ve corrupted her! You guys are the worst influence ever! That is why I don´t want her to visit me!"  
"It was a rather valuable life lesson," Lisa said smugly.  
"I agree," Len said and grinned. It was eerie how similar they both looked in that one moment.  
Hartley threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine, you can stay for a bit. I´ll drive you home as soon as that blasted thunderstorm lets up."  
"You mean when Mark stops moping because that lady friend of his ditched him?"  
The cloud near the ceiling spoke. "She was funny, pretty and so well-read: how was I supposed to know that she was the damn museum curator?"  
"At least she didn´t call the cops on you," the funny man intervened.  
"See? She was so kind, too. And I´ve lost her. How am I supposed to go on like this?"  
Thunder growled outside and the rain intensified.  
"Looks like you´ll be stuck here for a while," a man with black hair said to her. He offered her a crayon. "Would you like to help me bring some class to this wretched abode?"  
That must be the someone who had drawn on the walls.  
She smiled and said "Dibs on the living room wall."  
Hartley slumped down on the now empty couch.  
"One hour and now my baby sister takes advice from Golden Glider and does graffiti."  
"Cheer up!" the funny man said and patted Hartley´s shoulder, "this could have been worse."  
"How?"  
"Digger could have been here."


	31. A friend in need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> contains: Piper doing surveillance work for Wally and James pretending to be a mafioso

Piper sneezed. He briefly closed his eyes and shuddered. It was freezing on that damn rooftop. No wonder all the heroes from Gotham seemed a teacup short of a full set - spending that much time in the open on a freaking roof couldn´t be that enjoyable. He´d been here for only two hours and felt himself go crazy. A glance at his equipment - yes, everything was set up right, everything was working and the lawyer with ties to the mafia was still talking to his mother on the phone. Piper didn´t mind doing some surveillance work for Wally but he preferred to do it from the comfort of his own apartment or at least a place of his choosing. But no, Wally had asked nicely, even said please without needing a reminder and Piper had agreed to help. Having a conscience sucked sometimes.

He was monitoring the lawyer´s apartment, calls and emails, but so far there had been no evidence of the man´s ties to corruption and the Gotham mob who wanted to expand their reach. The lawyer had come home, fixed himself dinner while he was singing along to the radio (Piper knew that he himself wasn´t exactly a star tenor, but this man´s voice should be listed in the Geneva conventions under "things we do not use in warfare", right next to biological and chemical weapons), watched some TV (rerun from Frasier) and was now talking to his mother. Their topics had reached from her nagging him about his lack of a wife, him nagging her about not listening to her doctor, both cursing at the referee from last week´s football game and then her mentioning that nice girl who worked at her hair salon and who would just be perfect for him.  
Piper was bored, cranky and cold.

His ears picked up a sound he hadn´t heard in a long time. A person coming closer without footsteps, without rustling of clothes but with breathing.  
And then he heard whistling and a grin split his face. Mary Poppins, really?  
He turned around.  
"I would say that you´re a sight for sore eyes, but you´re really not,"  
The last notes from "Chim Chim Cheree" could be heard and then soft chuckling.  
"Oh, how you wound me!"  
Trickster stood next to him, wearing his god-awful pants. At least he swapped the cape for a leather jacket and his pixie boots for some real boots.  
"Your hair is different," Piper said as Trickster walked closer and he could see him better.  
"I´m trying to grow it out."  
"You look good, JJ,"  
"You look like crap, music man," Trickster replied cheerfully.  
The need to punch him in the face was an instinct Piper gained during his time as a Rogue. It never really went away.  
"You try looking good after hours of surveillance on a chilly rooftop, listening to a middle aged man talking with his mother on the phone."  
Piper thought briefly that Trickster probably could pull that off.  
"Is that one of your hobbies? Spying on boring people?"  
"No, it´s surveillance. Possible mob ties, yadda, yadda, yadda,"  
"So far?"  
"So far I´ve learned that Betty - that´s the girl who works at the hair salon this man´s mom frequents - has a nice smile and child-bearing hips and that he should get a move on and get married already, because his mom isn´t getting any younger and wants grandchildren."  
Trickster winced in sympathy.  
"Did the Flash set you up for this?"  
"Yes. At least he asked nicely this time."  
"And you really had no better plans for a friday evening?"  
Piper wanted to rant about his responsibilities, about how he had to sacrifice personal time for the job and how James was at a work thing in Canada anyway, until he saw Trickster smirking. He knew that smirk.  
That was his "I´m a bad influence and you love it"-smirk. Piper had done some stupid things after seeing that smile being directed at him.  
"You´re up to something," he said slowly.  
Trickster nodded.  
"Is it dangerous?"  
Nod.  
"Silly?"  
Nod.  
"Crazy enough to work?"  
Trickster looked him in the eye. Oh, it was definetely crazy.

\---  
An hour later, his equipment safely stored away in his car, the rooftop looking as if he´d never been there and the evidence Wally needed sitting on Piper´s couch, Piper met Trickster in a cafe downtown. He grinned at the sight of him.  
"You look absolutely glorious," he said.  
"I look like a cartoon!" Trickster claimed and pouted while he tugged on his new clothes. Piper laughed.  
Trickster - who wore bright spandex, a cape and often ridiculous disguises that should only work if he was Bugs Bunny - felt like a cartoon the one time he was dressed in normal clothes. The black tux looked exceptionally good on him. The slicked back hair...he could do without.  
A steaming mug was sitting in front of Piper´s seat.  
"Drink, that´ll put some color in your cheeks."  
It looked like coffee. It smelled like coffee. And it tasted like the most Irish coffee ever made.  
He wrapped his fingers around the mug, letting the warmth seep through his hands.  
He didn´t ask where Trickster had gotten that crazy straw from....or what he was drinking. Instead he sighed happily and took another sip. He felt heat rising to his face, coursing through his body.  
Normally, he didn´t drink. It made him....stupid, made him do or say stupid things.  
"You were magnificent back there,"  
"Yes, I was, wasn´t I? Did you get what you needed?"  
"Everything and more."

Trickster´s crazy plan consisted of dressing up as a mobster, waltz into that lawyer´s apartment and trying to set up a buisness deal with the Maroni family. The plan was ridiculous and shouldn´t have worked.  
It had worked like a charm. Piper got confirmation of the mafia ties, names, a smuggler network and even the location and specific date meeting with every person involved for next monday. He had recorded everything, made two back-up copies and wiped his traces.  
"We should have sent you on more undercover missions, you were terrific, JJ," he said fondly, with a touch of nostalgia.  
"Nah, that would have been too easy. I walked by the Flash a couple of times wearing various disguises and he never knew that something was off. He nearly run me over once and still nothing - absolutely no recognition. I like challenges, Piper.  
If I wanted to have it easy, I´d sell my tech to Star Labs, buy an island and live la vida loca. I could swindle people, set up a ponzi scheme or flat out steal wallets all day long."  
"You never cease to amaze me."  
"I´m awesome, I know."  
Piper blamed the silly little smile he wore on the Irish coffee


	32. Unpleasant Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many kinds of drunks. And the Rogues have them all.

There were many different kinds of drunk.  
Being a Rogue was closely tied to beer and bad judgement, so they were drunk a lot.

Len was a loner drunk - he´d retreat to a corner, down can after can, and stare creepily. Sometimes he´d mutter something, but, truth be told, the other were glad that they couldn´t make out what exactly he was saying.

Mark was the babbling kind of drunk. When he was drunk, he´d explain fantastic theories, tell life stories about him and his brother when they were both young and so very stupid, about the workings of the wand, meteorological theories and his favorite subject: Mark Twain and the 702 reasons why that man was awesome.

They didn´t exactly know what kind of drunk Mick was - it often involved challenging people to square-dancing and a sudden craving of ribs.

James was the affectionate drunk. He´d go up to people and hug them, whisper "You´re awesome", pat their cheeks and smile happily. Sometimes, he´d wrap their arms around him as if they were living blankets, sometimes he´d cuddle them as if they were stuffed animals, and eventually he passed out, clutching onto whomever he happened to be touching. For a sleeping drunk, he had a very firm grip.

Roy was the exhibitionist kind of drunk. He´d take off his vest or his pullover; toe off his shoes and socks and if they didn´t watch out, he´d lose his shirt and dance on the table, singing on the top of his lungs.  
One time, he had managed to take off his pants, too. The Rogues agreed never to speak of this again. Luckily, Roy never remembered any of his drunken shenanigans.

Roscoe was the funny drunk. For a man of higher education, elaborate plans for world domination and a brain the size of a skyscraper, he was disturbingly well-versed in telling jokes, telling dirty jokes and prank calls. He always claimed that he didn´t remember what he was doing when he was drunk, but he did. Half of the time he was embarrassed about it, the other half he was proud.

Digger could absolutely not handly his liquor. He´d get brash, cocky, more rude and offensive than usual, before he sprinted for the bathroom, threw up and searched for the nearest surface he could use as a bed before he passed out.

Sam seemed to turn gay when drunk. He complimented them on their skills, appearances and became quite touchy. He waxed poetry about Piper´s hair, admired Digger´s upper body muscles and had once sung an ode to Len´s ass.  
The Rogues figured they´d just pair him up with James and get both of them out of their hair, but when they discovered Sam licking JJ´s neck, they firmly separated them both, which ended up with JJ deciding that Mick´s chest was a perfect pillow and Sam trying to french-kiss Roy.

Piper didn´t get drunk with them. He always said that it was best if they had one person sober enough to drive, that he couldn´t leave them unsupervised and he was the responsible one. He sipped his ginger ale, watched them getting drunk, let Mark tell him about the manliness of Mark Twain while he was actually listening to the radio in the next room, picked up Roy´s clothing and warned the rest if Roy was trying to undo his belt, ignored Len and Mick, fought of Sam´s advances and wriggled out of JJ´s drunken hug. Then he´d keep a close eye on Roscoe to make sure he wouldn´t prank-call the police department again.  
Normally, it all worked out fine.  
Sure, there were the occassional trips to the emergency room because someone had broken his toe while running into a doorframe, trips to the next drive-through fastfood joint because Mick absolutely had to have ribs now, and in general keeping an eye on them all.

One day, they had run out of Ginger Ale.  
And since Piper was a Rogue, he was surrounded by beer.  
He always was prone to bad judgement.  
One drink couldn´t hurt, right?  
One drink turned to two, turned to three which turned to...many.

Piper wasn´t a loner-drunk, nor a funny-drunk, grabby-drunk or weird-drunk.  
He was an emotional drunk.  
All the emotions he bottled up inside, every thought he would never voice came out and it was horrible.  
He´d tell them about his parents, the neglect, the loneliness, the surgeries and the pain, the confusion, the constant feeling of being not-good-enough, of never making anyone feel proud, of never being accepted, of always being passed around from nanny to babysitter to boardng school to college, of the discrimination, of the disappointment and of never having had any friends.  
He had cried in front of them, and suddenly their buzz was gone and they sobered up. They reassured him that he wasn´t worthless, that he was bloody amazing, that "Screw them!" and "You have friends, you have us. That´s not gonna change, not ever, man."  
While he sobbed, warm arms sneaked around him and JJ had him in one of his teddy-bear hugs. The others figured that they´d never speak of this again and joined the hug. Piper felt drained, but he was better. He felt cleansed, absolved and ready for a new start.  
Then he noticed that JJ had fallen asleep and was snoring, that the other Rogues had red eyes and were pretending they hadn´t - his little outburst must have hit home.  
Then Sam groped his ass and he decided to call it a night.

In the future, Piper would always stick to his Ginger Ale.  
And if the Rogues sometimes stayed sober to keep him company, he´d pretend not to notice.


	33. Look at me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axel wants people to see him, to look at him and not see right through.

Axel Walker knows who he is. He´s the fucking Trickster. He´s smart, fast and a world-class criminal. They may not see it yet, but they will soon.

As he runs in stolen shoes, clads himself in colors that are not his own, as he steals a name, he knows what he wants. Money, Respect.  
He deserves this, the world owes him.

He´s a better Trickster than the other ever was, he´s ten-time the man that other guy could ever be. He´s smarter. Faster. He´s the best.

He was always good at lying, especially to himself.

He tells himself he wants respect, but he wants attention. He wants someone to notice him. So he yells, he is loud, he is brash. He is colorful, obnoxious and rude. They have to notice him; they can´t ignore him anymore.

Who is "they"? "They" used to be his parents, the kids at school, the teachers - anyone. He screams so loud, but it never seems as if anyone can hear him. No one ever listens. So he has to step up, to go to more extremes.  
It starts young, with acting out, with pranks; he lies, he gets into trouble, he steals; he dyes his hair, he gets piercings, he comes home with bruises on his body. No one ever notices, no one cares.

"They" are now the Rogues. But it´s not enough, not yet.  
They look at him, first with annoyance, then with acceptance, then with...something. He doesn´t know what it is, that is a new look. But he knows that this is what he wanted. It´s not enough, but it´s a start.  
At least they see him. They can hear him. He´s not sure if they are listening, but he thinks he´s on the right track.

Sometimes, they talk about the Trickster, but not him. They talk about the old guy. They talk about how fun he was, how smart, how fast. About how he died and that they miss him. Axel has walked in the stolen shoes for some time now, but it´s not enough. He catches them looking at him, but not seeing him. Sometimes, they look at Axel and see the ghost of a friend. Right then, his masks cracks. It almost shatters. He wants to scream again, to yell. Why will he never be enough?  
He will have to walk longer, he will have to wait, he will have to go to more extremes, until they no longer have a choice but to notice him. To see him.

Sometimes, it becomes too much. In rare moments, he realizes how much over his head he is. He will look down at his hands, he will look at a weapon that can kill. He will look at violence, destruction, at people hurt on the streets, at crying and screaming. He will be terrified. In those moments, the lies won´t work and he is honest to himself. He just wants his family, he wants to be held, he wants attention, warmth and love.  
And he will know that he hasn´t done anything to deserve that.

But the mask always snaps back into place.  
Until some day, it won´t.


	34. The greatest love in the universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which James came back as a star sapphire and is on a mission to find the greatest love in the universe....on the Oktoberfest.

"You have got to be kidding me!"  
"Believe me, Piper, I wish I was." James actually looked like he meant it.  
"Are you sure you can´t wriggle your way out of this one?" James had always been successful with dodging any jobs the Star Sapphires had for him, always claiming that love worked in mysterious ways and that he as the Trickster was the perfect man for those ways and thus they shouldn´t bother him with pesky jobs unless it was a galactic catastrophe.  
In this case, they had been adamant. Apparently it was a galactic catastrophe.  
The fate of the universe was in danger, unless two specific people met and fell in love. James was sent to make sure that that happened.  
Just why had the meeting place for the greatest love of all times be the damn Oktoberfest?

And because James was James, he felt the need to drag Piper into his mess.  
And because Piper was Piper, he found it hard to resist.  
Normally, James was very convincing if he wanted to be.  
Clad in very revealing spandex and just oozing an atmosphere of love, he was indeed very, very convincing.

"Alright," Piper said, "I´ll come with you. God knows what you would do unsupervised."  
James´ smile lit up the room...literally. He hugged Piper - okay, big, muscular, practically naked, incredibly handsome man who even smelled good (which was just a little bit unfair) hugging him - and Piper felt himself just melting into the embrace. He never could say "no" to James.  
"Thank you," James said softly.  
"You´re not buying lederhosen."  
James sighed. "Okay, I won´t."  
"You will also not steal any, blackmail someone to give some to you, ask for them, accept them as gifts or in any other form get your hands on some."  
"Sometimes, it´s creepy how well you know me."  
Piper grinned. "I´m just that good."

They could have gotten plane tickets, first class. They could have chartered a plane. But no, James insisted on flying himself. That damn ring was enabling him, no matter what James claimed. It wasn´t that Piper disliked flying, he disliked the loopings, barrel rolls and sudden swan dives. James always assured him that he would not let Piper fall, Piper believed him, but try telling his stomach that!

When they did arrive at the festival, after Piper had gotten James to change into something more decent despite James´ claims that probably no one would notice, they went searching for their targets.  
Actually, James dragged Piper to the food stalls and bought burnt almonds, cotton candy and an enormous gingerbread heart. Five minutes later, he won a huge stuffed tiger at a lottery booth, bought himself an enormous pretzel, told Piper to try the absolutely delicious chicken and walked towards a beer tent when Piper dragged him back by his collar.  
"You are here to work! Galactic crisis, remember?"  
"Yes, but-"  
"No but! You will finish your job and then we can have fun."  
After seeing James´ smirk, he probably should have left out the "fun"-part.  
"Autoscooter? Haunted House? Ferris Wheel?"  
"We´ll do all of that once you have stopped the universe from imploding or whatever else is going to happen unless you unite those lovers."  
"Promise?"  
"Promise," Piper said. James pressed a brief kiss to his lips and closed his hand around Piper´s. "Let´s go!"

They found their first target very quickly. It was a woman in her thirties, waitressing in one of the enormous tents. She wore one of those traditional dresses and her hair fell in two thick braids onto her shoulders. The ring seemed to hum once he got close to her and briefly, pink sparkles appeared in the air. "That´s her," James whispered.  
The ring began to go through her biography and Piper felt strange. He had expected something from possibly the greatest love in the universe, but she was just an ordinary girl; her name was Bettina, she grew up in the North, moved to Munich for college, graduated but couldn´t find a decent job and worked now at a beauty salon in the city. She had two older sisters, a dog named Freddy and had been left at the altar. Piper felt bad for thinking it, but he had expected someone more special.

Her love was going to save the universe?

Since she wasn´t likely to disappear, they went and searched for the other target. His name was Sven, he was from Switzerland and just here because his friends had dragged him along. He worked in IT, his hair already thinned at the top and he wore tennis socks and sandals. The ring sparked again.

James and Piper wondered briefly about how to get their targets together in one place, but Sven´s friends seemed to do their job for them. They loudly announced that they wanted beer - thank God for the translator function on the ring, Piper couldn´t make out a single word - and Sven had no choice but to come with them. James and Piper followed them and they did in fact walk right into that tent where Bettina worked.  
And as if on cue, she was already walking towards them.

Piper didn´t know what to do, but James had an idea.  
But since James was James, that idea was silly. And a bit brilliant.  
He pretended to be drunk, bumped into Sven and maneuvered him just so that he would nearly crash into his great love he hadn´t met yet. She grabbed his upper arm and asked if he was okay. He looked at her, ready to apologize, but froze. Then he smiled. She hadn´t released his arm, returned his gaze and smiled. Somehow, they seemed more than themselves, as if nothing else existed, as if nothing else mattered and for just a second Piper felt something.  
Greatest love of the universe? Between a Swiss IT guy and a German beauty salon worker? And yet, it seemed so ...right.

Piper let James lead him out of the tent and to the Ferris wheel. As they both rose up into the nightsky and saw the city as a glittering light in the dark, James whispered into Piper´s ear: "Those Sapphires are bastards. They tricked me. Me!"  
"What happened?"  
"The greatest love of the universe and galactic crisis talk? Total bullshit. Those two are no different from any other couple. Nothing would have happened if they hadn´t met. No rocks falling from the sky, no oceans flooding the land, nothing!"  
"Then why would they send you on a mission like that?"  
"To teach me a lesson, to teach me that every love is special, that even the most ordinary people are far from ordinary and that really, every love is the greatest in the whole universe, at least to the lovers."  
"Did it work?"  
James turned his head and smiled at him.  
"Maybe."  
He held Piper´s hand.  
"And maybe I´m somewhat of a selfish bastard who will always believe that his love is the greatest of the universe, no matter anyone says or thinks."


	35. Meal Ticket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James keeps stealing Piper's food

Piper had just sat down in the booth, in front of him a tray with delicious fast food - chicken nuggets, barbecue sauce, xxl fries and one of those strawberry milkshakes that surprised him every time with how creamy and tasty they were - when the inevitable happened.  
James.

Some people had an innate sense of direction.  
Some people had a fantastic inner clock.  
Some people had a gaydar.  
James had a food-radar. Specifically, one that was tuned to Piper.  
Every god damn time when Piper went out to grab something to eat, he´d run into James. James would happily steal his fries, ask "You going to finish that?" and steal his ice cream without even waiting for an answer or just look at him with his puppy eyes until Piper willingly surrendered his food.

He sighed and put the box with the nuggets in the middle of the table.  
"Thanks, buddy! I´m starving!"  
James once again looked like a rainbow had puked on him. Yellow shirt, burgundy waistcoat and jeans with a diamonds pattern. He was also utterly gorgeous.  
He started chatting with Piper, telling him about his day, whom he had pissed off lately and even asked Piper how he was.  
Piper was good, except for the fact that someone interrupted his lunches and stole his food.  
"Come on, you´re my favorite meal ticket!"  
"I bet you say that to all the boys."  
"Well, actually girls, but who cares, right?"  
"So...I´m not the only one you´re doing this to?"  
"Sorry, you don´t have the monopoly on being my food source. Be glad you aren´t, I´m not exactly a cheap date."  
"Just how often a week do you do this?"  
"Umm...20 times, give or take."  
Piper looked him up and down.  
"What do you do with all the food? Seriously, by all laws of nature, you should have put on a few pounds and I can tell that you haven´t."  
If any, James looked better.  
"Oh, you can tell?"  
Piper blushed. "Don´t change the subject!"  
"Honestly, I´m just doing the usual - cardio, hitting the gym, aerial exercises, running with the walkers..."  
"Just how much time do you spend working out?"  
"Anything up from 3 hours to 7 a day. This perfect body didn´t magically appear overnight."  
Oh, that made sense. And made Piper feel vaguely guilty. After the break-up with Michael, he had indulged into too much comfort food and not enough exercise. It seemed like going jogging with his neighbor once a week didn´t exactly cut it for him.  
He made a decision and pushed the tray towards James.  
"You´re not going to finish that?"  
"No, I´m just... I´m not really that hungry."  
James wolfed down the fries.  
As Piper left, he didn´t turn around one last time. He made plans in his head to rid his apartment of junk food, to finally join that gym after he had postponed it 30 times already and to buy workout clothes.  
If he had turned around, he would have seen James grin evilly at his back.

James didn´t have a food-radar.  
He just had a sense of knowing whether Piper needed something; ranging from assistance, to a laugh, a hug or a push in the right direction.


	36. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James alwas assumed that he'd be the kinky one in that relationship...boy, was he wrong

James wasn´t what you´d call a subtle person.  
He always made it perfectly clear what he wanted, when he wanted it and what would happen if he didn´t get his will.  
He liked bright colors, loud sounds and lived for the audience.  
Also, he wasn´t exactly shy with his public displays of affection, how inappropriate they might be.

So, he had assumed that he´d probably by the kinky one in the relationship.

Oh, how he had been wrong.

No matter to what he got up to in the sunlight, in the open; what Piper got up to in the secrecy of night was a thousand times more ... interesting.


	37. The end of the apocalypse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trickster did it.

According to the Bible, the apocalypse was near.  
The signs were everywhere.

It turned out that those people on street corners holdings signs with "The end is near" had been right. All those preachers on sunday morning television had been right (except for the "sending us money will save you"-part).

Monsters rose up: terrifying creatures, natural (or rather, unnatural) disasters and the riders of the apocalypse.  
But where were the angels?  
Where was salvation?

People despaired, praying to God, praying to everyone and everything, running and crying.

The Rogues holed up in one of their safe safehouses, armed to the teeth and preparing to die, had tried to make peace with the fact the world was doomed. They would die.  
The miracle they were waiting for never came. The angels didn´t descend from heaven. No god saved them.

It all was lost.

Until one man, one Trickster, said that he had enough of that bullshit.  
Who needed angels anyway? He was going out now to fight. They could stay where they were or for once in their life do something brave, something heroic and something ultimately badass. He hadn´t fought his way out of hell for hell to follow him. Oh no, mister. The Trickster was pissed. And when he is, monsters should run in fear.

It started in Central City, but it soon spread over the states, over the seas to the other continents.

Later, the new book of Eden, amendment to the bible, would describe the Trickster´s speech as heart-warming, as inspired; as carefully crafted words full of determination, dignity and loyalty. They wrote that he made the world rise up and defend itself.  
Actually, his real speech, transmitted to the whole world through Piper´s tech, sounded more like: "Fuck this shit, I´m going monster-hunting. Who´s with me?"


	38. Universal Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About the friendship of Wally and Piper in Flashpoint (which, was the only good thing Flashpoint had to offer)

There´s an universal balance to things.  
Where there is light, there is shadow; where there is good, there is evil.

When the world shifted, when continents sank, when people were slaughtered and violence swept over the world, there was an overflow of good, of love, that needed to go somewhere. It chose to go to Kansas, to a boy who would never be Kid Flash and his best friend, the formerly deaf geek.

Wally first saw Piper at one of the charity balls that frequently took place in Keystone. The high society often raised money for those poor refugees from Europe, from Africa and from everyhwere else. Under no circumstances would Wally or anyone he knew ever get an invitation, but he had Aunt Iris. She babysat him when his parents were once again unable to take care of him and had simply dragged him with her to the event she was supposed to write a story about. Her boss had let her know that her story was supposed to highlight the generosity, the kind-heartedness and philantropy of the hosts. Iris had never let things like that stop her; she´d tell the truth, no matter what. With the same stubborness, she got Wally through security and the claims that he wasn´t on the guest list.  
He stodd awkwardly around in his finest suit, that was still emberrassingly shabby compared to everyone else. Iris talked to two of the guests - Mr and Mrs Rat-something - when the woman, clad in a long, silvery dress, smiled and excused herself from the conversation. Only now could Wally see that she had been gripping the hand of a boy tightly and was tugging him along. She stopped in front of Wally. "You are with Ms West, aren´t you?" Her voice was sweet. The boy made a vomiting motion when she wasn´t looking. "Yes, ma´m."  
"Splendid, why don´t you keep Hartley company?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned to the boy, presumably named Hartley. Seriously, what kind of name was that?  
"Behave yourself, young man. We don´t want this to end like the spring ball at the Remington´s place."  
She walked away and rejoined the conversation with Wally´s aunt.

Wally looked at the boy. Glasses, red hair, a suit that probably cost more than what his parents made in a month. He looked utterly bored.  
"What´s your name?" he asked. He had a slight lisp.  
"Wally."  
"What kind of name is Wally?"  
"What kind of name is Hartley?"  
"Point taken." The boy grinned and suddenly he looked less like a rich, snooty aristocrat brat and more like a real boy, one who rode on his bike where he shouldn´t, got scraped knees and was scolded by his parents.  
"This blows," Hartley said and began to walk away. Wally followed him until they reached the balcony. They both climbed up the railing and watched the city, glittering in the distance.  
"I take it you´re not one for parties like that?"  
"No. My parents insist on dragging me these events all the time. They tell me to establish connections, make powerful friends, suck up to other rich kids... I hate this. I hate the other kids. They´re brats, all of them."  
"Tell me, what happened at this Remington party?"  
"I rigged their sound system, pretended a SWAT team was outside. The slight panic, hurried glances and a lawyer trying to escape, claiming he didn´t know that this kind of tax evasion was even illegal, were priceless."  
"You´re awesome," Wally said.  
Hartley looked at him strange, as if he had never heard someone say this words to him.  
He quickly changed the subject.  
"How exactly did you get an invitation? I´m sorry, but you don´t look exactly like an heir to a multi-million dollar company."  
"My aunt´s a reporter, she dragged me along. She was talking to your parents earlier."  
"Oh, your aunt is Iris West? I loved her story on the corrupt mayoral campaign and the exposé on the shelters."  
"Aren´t you a litte too young to be interested in politics?"  
"Never too early to grow a conscience."  
Wally suddenly felt childish.  
That was their first meeting.

The second meeting was in a dark alley. Piper had come with some donations for the shelter nearby when he heard some muffled shouts. He saw some punks beating down a defenseless old man.  
"Hey!" he yelled, "Stop it!"  
Two of the punks ran, frightened away by the tone of authority in his voice. The last one, however, stayed. He was a head taller and 50 pounds heavier than Piper. Piper was screwed.  
His lip split under the first punch, something in his face cracked under the second. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the third when something else cracked.  
"Keep your hands off my friend!" someone said.  
Wally!  
Wally, who was about two inches taller than Piper and still a lot lighter than the punk. Piper made a decision. Wally had just dodged a punch. Piper dashed forward and aimed a kick right between the punk´s legs. It might be playing unfair, but it worked.  
Wally helped up the old man who was thanking them with a heavy slavic accent.  
"We´re going to get you to the shelter, okay?"  
They steered the man towards the shelter, spoke to the clerk who made some arrangements and left after the man had hugged them and said something they couldn´t understand.  
Wally didn´t feel so childish now.  
They both sat in a cafe, feet dangling in the air as they toasted himself with milkshakes.  
"Are you okay, Hartley? Your face...you look ugly, man. Aren´t you supposed to put a steak on it or something?"  
"They only do that in the movies." Piper smiled, winced and smiled again, "also, it´s Piper now."  
"What is Piper now?"  
"Me. My name is now Piper, not Hartley. Hartley sucked...and you couldn´t make a decent nickname out of it."  
"Hart?"  
"Like in heart with an e? No."  
"Suppose you´re right, but why Piper?"  
Piper smiled. He hoped it looked cryptic, he had practiced in front of a mirror long enough. Wally called him his friend.  
Right then, Piper made another decision. He´d show Wally his lair: his room with the sonic gadgets, with the radio that could tap police radio, with the big tv and a link to the 911 calls. Piper was going to be a hero. Wally could be his sidekick.


	39. Sleeping Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues embarrass the Flash in front of his friends.

It wasn´t exactly a situation where he needed the help, but it felt really great to have a team, to be able to look left and right and see his friends and to know that in the unlikely case he would fail, it wasn´t the end of the world. Not that it would have been anyway, the Rogues were just robbing a bank. The first half of their plan was quite clever - robbing the museum when the Flash´s attention was focused on his museum re-opening; the latter half - robbing the museum when the Flash had invited the JLA to the re-opening - was utterly stupid.

Barry ran, dodging the lightning bolts from the Weather Wizard and headed straight for the Top. The Top had once again risen from the grave - Barry didn´t want to know how, he hoped it wouldn´t involve someone´s father again - and had begun to spin around, creating a whirlwind. Two could play that game. He ran in circles around the Top, in the opposite direction, faster and faster until the Top slowed, slowed, stopped and then fell over, complaining about dizziness and calling the Flash unflattering names.  
Green Lantern was fighting the Wizard, a bright green protective shield around him. A huge green boxing glove knocked the wand out of the Wizard´s hands and he tumbled to the ground into the waiting arms of Wonder Woman who bound him with her lasso.  
("I like strong women," the Wizard said with a dreamy smile, "and you must be the strongest woman I ever met. You can tie me up any time, sugar." Barry couldn´t hear him or the answer Wonder Woman gave, but it made the Wizard blush furiously.)  
Superman used his frost breath to fight Heat Wave and his heat vision to combat Captain Cold at the same time. A boomerang smacked the back of his head. "Oh crap," Captain Boomerang said as Superman turned around and loked at him, "um...sorry." Green Arrow took him out while Batman had just finished to fight the Mirror Master.

Not a minute later, all Rogues were handcuffed and stood surrounded by the JLA, waiting for the police to transport them to prison.  
"Can´t you keep order in your city for one day without these punks embarassing you?" Batman growled. Barry admitted that it wasn´t really the best impression one might get of Central City, but everything had gone alright.  
"Relax, Batman, we defeated them, no people were hurt, the bank is safe-"  
"And we didn´t really embarass him," someone said.  
The JLA looked at the Rogues and saw the Trickster, hair looking like he just escaped a hurricane, mask half-hanging off his face and a cracked lip.  
"No, really, we were acting very professional. We even kept the puns to a minimum!"  
"Yes, you were very well behaved," Barry said with a smile, "good boy."  
He shouldn´t have said that. The Trickster smiled. Barry´s stomach dropped. He really shouldn´t have said that.  
The Trickster looked at his fellow Rogues and they nodded unisono.  
"If we really wanted to embarass you...we would talk about the time Trickster made your head swell up. I think we still have photos of that."  
"There´s no need," Barry began.  
"Or when the Top possessed your daddy and made around with his girlfriend in front of you."  
Green Arrow snickered.  
"That´s not funny!"  
"Not to you, but to us that was hilarious!"  
The Rogues grinned; Captain Cold whispering something to Mirror Master who started to howl with laughter and nearly doubled over.  
Barry felt his face becoming hot. He could hear his leaguers laughing.  
Then Captain Boomerang started to imitate the Flash and strutted around, spouting Flash Facts, all in his thick Australian accent.  
Oh god....did Batman just smile? Barry wanted to sink into the ground. It didn´t occurr to him that he actually could if he vibrated his molecules.  
"Come on, now, you´ve had your fun, off to prison."  
"At least you disarmed us properly. Handcuffs, police and everything. Not like the time you used to strip us," the Trickster said nonchalantly.  
The laughter stopped. "I´m not kidding. During the old days he took away our weapons and then stripped us down to our underwear. I used to think he had a fetish or something."  
The leaguers looked at the Rogues, someone made the mistake of imagining the Rogues nearly naked and the laughter started again.  
"I did not - no, you´re getting this wrong! Stop it!"  
Green Lantern snorted with laughter. "So you didn´t do it?"  
"No...yes, but...no, but"  
Now everyone was laughing, Rogue and leaguer alike.  
"You guys suck," he told the Rogues.  
"At least we finally got payback for the stripping thing. Mission accomplished."  
"What mission? Wait....you planned for this?"  
"Of course," the Top said, "do you think we were stupid enough to try to rob a bank while you´re having a justice league party a few blocks away? We were counting on you stopping us. And you played your part most excellently, thank you, Flash."  
The Rogues high-fived in handcuffs, making sure that everyone at least fist-bumped each other.  
The Trickster pulled the Top into a hug as best as he could. "I missed your big brain and your plans to humiliate the Flash, man."  
"I am flattered. And I so enjoyed it," his lips twisted into a grin, "Run away!" he yelled suddenly.  
The Rogues began to ran, handcuffs clattering to the floor.  
The JLA immediately went after them, but the Rogues escaped, running into windows, the Weather Wizard flying into the clouds while Heat Wave clung to him, the Top spinning away while the Trickster hang on for life.  
They were gone in a few seconds, leaving behing a deeply embarassed Flash.


	40. Straw and Camels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues and cooking

Cooking was hard. None of the Rogues actually liked cooking (except for James, but they all knew better than to accept food from him) and none of them was particularly skilled at it either.  
Take-out was usually the way to go, whether they sent Sam to the nearest burger joint, pestered Piper until he went and got some Chinese or made Mick go on a pizza run.  
The advantage of that was that no one had to cook. The disadvantage was that they were stuck in routines.  
So what if you didn´t want a cheeseburger on Burger Monday? What if it was Chop Suey Sunday and you wanted a salad? Well, you were screwed, unless you would go out, buy ingredients and do the work yourself. Rogues weren´t very fond of that.

It was Taco Night - no one knew why exactly Digger was responsible for that one - when the collective straws broke the camels´ backs.  
"I´m not racist, but that´s it - I hate Mexicans!" Len said and pushed his plate away. "I can´t take it anymore. I want real food. I am going to buy myself a hot dog, with onions, sauerkraut and everything the vendor has. Screw food-themed days!"  
He stormed out.  
"He´s right, you know?"  
"Please don´t become a racist, too, Mark."  
"Stop that, Sam. I just want... I want roasted turkey, and mashed potatoes, and peas and... not tacos! If anyone needs me, I´ll be at a fancy restaurant."  
"Yes! They´re right! I decide what to eat and when to eat. I´m going to make pancakes!"  
"James, it´s 8pm."  
"So? I´m an adult, I can eat pancakes whenever I want! Chocolate syrup, here I come!"  
Piper sighed. "As much as it pains me to admit it... I just want a sandwich. That can´t be too hard to make, right?"  
"Have you seen our fridge? It´s pretty much impossible," Mick intervened.  
"Then...oh, what the hell - I´m going on a grocery run, who´s with me?"  
Mumbling agreements, Roy, Roscoe and Sam rose from their seats and followed Piper.  
As they went, they fantasized about what they could make - apple pie, lasagna, gyros, maybe they could manage spring rolls, surely they could make burgers.  
Mick thought about what he wanted. He actually wanted pizza: he could even get himself one of those beef, pork and poultry pizzas, the super-meat special that he normally couldn´t get for himself since he had to think of the others as well. Well, screw the others: super-meat-special it was! He left, leaving behind a table filled with food, drinks and a quietly munching Digger.

Their safehouse was empty except for James who flipped pancakes and hummed happily and Digger who had not said a word in the whole debate. When James returned to the table, on his plate a small tower of pancakes not drenched, but drowning in syrup, he asked "What about you, Digger? No dreams about different food? Don´t you long for ...uh... fried alligator?"  
"Nah. *I* like tacos."


	41. Romance isn't dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James tries to be romantic...in his own way.

Normally, Piper mocked lovey-dovey behavior. He made snide remarks about neverending phone calls when for the last hour or so both participants said "No, I love you more." He hated Valentine´s Day with a passion; corporate capitalistic kitschy nonsense. He didn´t like couple-gloves, love tunnels and matching outfits.  
So why did he engage in all that silliness as soon as James started?

They were laying on his couch - James had long stopped being the invading force of his living room and had become a very persistent occupier - listening to some music he had put on - Piper never said "some" music; he always knew what artist sang what song, who composed it and from which year the recording was from...except when James was there, then everything became "something vaguely unimportant" - and just enjoying each other´s company.  
"I love you," James whispered into the folds of Piper´s pullover.  
"I love you," he answered. Maybe he shouldn´t have put so much emphasis on the "I". It sounded like a challenge, and James could never resist those.  
"I love you with the power of a thousand suns."  
"I love you with the power of a billion supernovas."  
"I love you more than rubber chicken."  
"What?"  
"Hey, you know how much I love those!"  
"True. I love you more than Rachmaninov."  
"Don´t tell me you were having an affair-"  
"It´s a composer! I meant his music!"  
"I know. You´re just so adorable when you´re flustered."  
"And now you expect me to say something romantic back?"  
"Well...yes."  
"..."  
"Piper?"  
"..."  
Speak up, I didn´t catch that."  
"..."  
"Come on!"  
"..."  
"Fine. If you want to play games, let´s play. I´d rob a dozen banks for you."  
"..."  
"I´d kidnap this Rachmaninov guy and force him to compose music just for you."  
"..."  
"I´d serenade you...just give me a couple of weeks to learn how to play the guitar."  
"..."  
"How about I steal a dozen roses for you? That´s romantic, right?"  
"..."  
"Get you chocolate? Ice cream?"  
"..."  
"I'd haul a piano for you! Now there's a romantic gesture! I mean, have you ever tried to haul a piano around? They're heavy!"  
"..."  
"...well, I think it'd be romantic. No?"  
"..."  
"Fine. I didn´t want to have to say this that early, but fine."  
He said something, but so quietly that only Piper (and well, possibly Superman) could hear it.  
Piper blushed furiously. "You´d do that?"  
James grinned. "Yes."


	42. Time Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> crossover with Doctor Who:  
> James is a companion, and he and the Doctor end up in Keystone. Only, something is wrong, very wrong.

"So, that´s Nazareth III, in the year 4003, the dynasty of King... Alphonse. Huh...could have sworn that belonged to King Ralph. Anyway, are you ready?"  
"Yes, Doctor!" James said. He was dressed casually - jeans, t-shirt, suit jacket - but of course he was (for his standards) armed to the teeth. Airwalkers on his feet, itching powder in his pockets, secret GPS tracker in his watch and many more gadgets. The Doctor really shouldn´t let him loose on intergalactic markets.  
"Doctor?" he asked as the Doctor went to get his coat from the coat rack. James really loved that coat; he had spotted it while he was on the roof of a building and without thinking had jumped down and followed it. Him, he had followed the Doctor, no the coat. Well, probably both.  
"Yes, James?"  
"Why is this colony called Nazareth? Couldn´t the colonists come up with a new name? Everyone keeps naming planets and ships after planets, cities and ships that already exist."  
"A precise observation, but you see, this is an American colony. The Bible Belt expedition from 3455 founded this colony and decided the name was fitting. Americans are generally very uncreative when it comes to names."  
"Should I be insulted by that?"  
"Are your names choices very creative?"  
Well, he had named himself after Jesse James. And the Trickster legend was as old as time.  
"Yes, very," he countered and smiled brilliantly.  
"If you say so." The Doctor flicked a switch, the door opened and they stepped outside on the new, unexplored land of "Doctor? Not to offend you...but this is Kansas."  
"Preposterous! This is Nazareth III!"  
"Nope, that´s Kansas. That´s Keystone City in fact."  
"That can´t be right, the scanner clearly said...no, this _is_ Keystone City. How odd."  
James rolled his eyes. The TARDIS was unpredictable and practically never landed where it was supposed to, and usually he loved that, but Keystone? Was she kicking him out? Was the Doctor about to abandon him?  
James walked over the street to a magazine stand, browsed for a while and then returned to the Doctor.  
"Doctor, temporal paradoxes are bad, right?"  
"Of course, but you know that! Why would you ask that?"  
James showed the Doctor the newspaper he had liberated. "It´s 1997, Doctor. We´ve landed in my future."

*imagine Doctor Who opening titles here*

"That´s impossible. We can´t be here. That´s..."  
"Bad? Odd? Possibly devastating for the timeline and everything?"  
"The last one, James. I admit, this isn´t the first time something like this has happened, but it is very disturbing non-the-less. We have to be very careful: watch out. You can´t meet your future self. You can´t interact, you can´t touch. That would cause a catastrophy!"  
"Ok, no high-fiving myself. Anything else?"  
"It´s best if you stay with me. I need to investigate why the TARDIS brought us here and not where we wanted to go. It´s most peculiar."  
The Doctor locked the doors and walked away, James followed him.  
While the Doctor browsed the newspaper for clues, James looked at the city. It definetely had changed. It was give-or-take 10 years into his future.  
He wondered what he had done in the meantime, what had happened or how he might look like. Then he wondered if he was here at all. What if the Doctor didn´t bring him back to where he left, what if he brought him back years afterwards? What if he had chosen to leave and live on an alien planet? He had rummaged through the database, looked at those many people who had traveled with the Doctor. What if he would die on a future adventure?  
"Aha!" the Doctor said so loud it startled several people around them.  
"Did you figure out why we are here?"  
"The Cosmic Treadmill!"  
James couldn´t help himself, he started laughing.  
"What is so funny?"  
"A cosmic treadmill?! Treadmill? What´s next - the galactic legpress? The Dumbbell of the universe?"  
"The name seems a bit mischosen, but the device is very fascinating. There is an exhibition at the Flash Museum...apparently. Do you know who this Flash is?"  
"The resident superhero."  
"That tale again? The one about the man who runs at the speed of light?"  
"Those are his words, not mine."  
"James, it is impossible for a man to run at the speed of light; he´d break the barriers of the universe, transcend into another dimension, he could-"  
The Doctor stopped and was silent. A silent Doctor was something to behold, it didn´t happen very often.  
"He could what?"  
"Travel in time! We have to investigate! To the museum!"

And so they both forgot to make sure they didn´t walk into future!James and went to the museum. There was a huge crowd in front of a podium. A speech was in order, so it seemed. The cameras went off, flashed, clicked, and then in a scarlet blur, the Flash appeared. James unconsciously ducked a bit.  
"That´s amazing!" the Doctor said.  
"New to Keystone, I take it?" a woman beside them asked. She smiled. "I´ve lived here for 20 years now, but it never gets old, it never gets any less wonderful."  
"Does it? The Flash must be a most remarkable man." The man in question was busy shaking hands and smiling.  
"He is, he is," she said, "he protects us from supervillains, from invading aliens and from that horde of super-gorillas just last week!"  
"Super-gorillas?" James asked.  
"That Gorilla Sod...or was it Gorilla God? He tried to turn the whole population into apes, but the Flash stopped him."  
James could see the trust, the admiration in her eyes.  
"And can you believe it? Those dastardly Rogues tried to attack the museum just this morning! And there isn´t even anything valuable in the museum, they just do it to anger the Flash."  
"How rude of them."  
"Quite," the Doctor said.  
The Flash began his speech and if James didn´t have the self-control he had, his jaw would have dropped.  
"Thank you all for coming. A new exhibition is always very exciting and...I hope you like it. Have fun, people!" He waved. Then he was handed an enormous golden pair of scissors to cut through the red ribbon tied in front of the door.  
James tugged on the Doctor´s sleeve. "That isn´t the Flash," he whispered urgently, "Doctor, something is wrong!"

They waited patiently in line, got handed a red ballon with the Flash symbol on it, the Doctor got a badge he pinned on his lapel and James had taken out his camera and photographed everything, chatting with the woman still next to them, how he had heard of the Flash but never seen him. She told him more stories; he knew some of them , had been present for a few, but most of them were new. Then they reached the steps in front of the museum and the giant golden statue loomed over them. James´ fingers itched to throw something or write on it. Until he read the placque. "In memory of Barry Allen, beloved hero"  
He was ...dead? But he was the Flash, he couldn´t die! Then it hit him...who was responsible? What if...no, they wouldn´t have, they couldn´t have....but 10 years were such a long time... "Do you know what exactly happened to the Flash...well, him?" he asked the woman and pointed at the statue. "Oh," she looked sad, "he saved us all, but it cost him his lives. There was a ...I didn´t understand it then and I´m not sure I do now. A crisis, with another universe and it seemed like we would all die. But he stopped it, he saved us."  
"So, this Flash-"  
"That´s his little friend, Kid Flash. He had to grow up so fast. I remember, I was in the marketplace one time and the Rogues robbed a bank. This kid in the bright yellow costume ran just like the Flash, he smiled and he defeated the Rogues together with the Flash. He is good, really. He is his own hero, but we can´t help but to miss the old Flash. It´s silly, I know, but..."  
"I understand," James said.  
Finally they were inside the museum. James tried not to look at too much. Knowing that the Rogues would try to rob the Arctic themed exhibition of a museum was one thing (he could have predicted that!), but knowing how they would look like, if new Rogues would come, if old Rogues would go....that was too much. He kept his eyes on the Doctor´s coat and followed him through the halls.  
"Ah, there it is!" the Doctor finally announced. Not many people were in this room; the Rogues gallery and the food area attracted the most visitors.  
"It looks...like a common treadmill."  
"Is it alien? From the future? From another dimension?"  
"It´s...I´m not sure. There are definetely chronon particles present, and-" he sniffed "yes, that is artron energy. It has been used to travel through time. But I don´t recognize any elements that would label it as part of another era or place."  
"So it´s like my walkers?"  
"Yes, exactly like the walkers, those impossible blue pixie boots of yours."  
"Hey!"  
"I don´t want to offend you, but they shouldn´t exist. Anti-grav technology centuries before humanity should invent it? And you came up with them."  
"I told you I was clever."  
"Yes, yes, too clever. And all my scans show no influence of time anomalies or alien intervention. You came up with these on your own despite the fact that it should be impossible. And this treadmill is, too. It is too advanced, but it originated here, definetely."  
"So that is why the TARDIS brought us here?"  
"I´m not sure it was a decision of hers. I think she was attracted by this machine and was, for lack of a better word, curious. It really is quite fascinating."  
Without them noticing, the room had emptied. The door had closed. Someone clapped their hands, slowly.  
"Hello Doctor. You ran right into my trap, as predicted."

James and the Doctor whirled around. There was a figure - a man - standing in the shadows.  
"Show yourself!" the Doctor demanded. He puffed his chest and pressed his hands into his hips, "I demand to know who you are!"  
"Oh, so boisterous! So loud! It´s been such a long time, Doctor."  
James´ skin began to tingle.  
"But Doctor, don´t you recognize me?"  
A sharp smile appeared in the shadows, almost otherworldly in nature.  
James reached into his pockets and gripped the yo-yo he had stashed there tightly.  
The man walked forward...no, he almost glided. Then James noticed that he was walking on thin air.  
"Doctor, it´s me!" both Tricksters said simultaneously.  
Then the figure stepped into the light and began to laugh. It really was him...me, James thought. Also, the pants were a dead give-a-way.  
"You believed I was a supervillain! One of your alien menaces!"  
"No....yes, but - what are you doing here, James?"  
Future!James walked up to them. Up close, James saw the long ponytail, the black shirt, a leather jacket (really?) and of course the pants. He wore dark boots which were definetely walkers. The tingling feeling intensified. Future!James looked exactly like him. Maybe he was a tiny bit more muscular, but other than that...  
except for two things. The first one was the way he carried himself. James knew a lot about false bravado and about pretending to have confidence, he used that skills a lot. But this James was confident. In every step there was security, determinedness and strength. And the eyes....they weren´t older as he expected,, but wiser, definetely. And they just shone with joy.  
The future looked awesome. Maybe excet for the jacket.  
"I thought you might come around. Twinkletoes had a time-travel adventure recently, couple that with the opening, your tendency for grand entrances...I was sure you´d come. And I was right, here you are. And you brought me with you!"  
He smiled at James...himself and winked.  
"It was an accident, the TARDIS -"  
"Surely, an accident," he said ´accident´ as if it was a private joke, "of course, Doctor."  
The Doctor huffed.  
"Oh, don´t sulk, you know how the TARDIS gets. Maybe she missed me."  
"Missed you?"  
"She likes me, Doctor."  
"But...I´m there! I´m me!" James said.  
"Yes, you are...and you´re not."  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
"Doctor, you are already risking a paradox by having two versions of me at the same place, do you really want me to reveal future knowledge?"  
"No, no, keep it to yourself."  
"Oh, the things I could tell you..."  
"Stop it!" the Doctor said, and future!James laughed.  
"Relax, I know enough about time-travel not to cause a rift in time and space."  
"Is there something you can tell me? How is everyone? How is Baby Flash? I mean, Flash."  
"Oh, was I really like that? Man, I was adorable."  
"Hey!....narcissist. Flatterer. Come on, say something. Just...don´t cause a time explosion or whatever."  
"Time explosion? Oh, it is still so early for you! But okay, let me think. Rogues are well and kicking. Well, I think Len said he has an ulcer, but that´s his own fault. Digger tried once to emigrate back to Australia and they threw him out. Oh, Mark changed his costume. Hilarious, really. Piper looks even more ridiculous, giant man-cleavage. Umm...no, no, definetely not allowed to say that, no, no, oh, do you remember Mindy?"  
"Mindy who left me, broke-my-heart-and-moved-to-the-west coast-Mindy?"  
"That´s the one. Oh, all the things I´m not allowed to tell," he grinned, then became serious. "It´s nice to see you again, Doctor. You could drop by when you´re older, you know?"  
"I think I will, can´t let you run around unsupervised for too long now, can I?"  
"Doctor, you don´t know the half of it."

 

"Soo...I leave you?" James said to the Doctor.  
"Hey, me, stop it with the long face! Yes, one day you will stop traveling with him, but that´s not the end of the world, not for either of you. In fact, we parted on good terms. No, you didn´t abandon me on an alien planet and no, I didn´t run off with a space concubine to get married. Can´t say the same for ...no, can´t tell you that one either, but trust me, that´s a good story." He grinned, stepped forward and hugged the Doctor tightly. The Doctor looked slightly surprised, but eventually wrapped his arms around future!James.  
"It really is nice to see you again, Doctor," future!James mumbled, "there is just....well, if you could do me one favor..."  
"And what would that be? I can´t risk causing a paradox."  
"Then you can just wait until after this me has left you. Or travel now to the future version of her. Or hell, write her a postcard."  
"Her?" James asked interested.  
"Yes, her. Doctor, could you pass on a message? I swear it won´t cause the universe to collapse."  
"Alright then, what do you want me to tell who?"  
"Tell Romana that I´m sorry for the...ahem, incident involving me and her. Also, if that baby turns out to be mine, I will support her, no worries."  
The Doctor was speechless..again.  
"You know he´s just screwing with you?" James said to the Doctor.  
"That wasn´t funny!"  
"You should have seen your face, it was funny as hell!"  
"I agree with me."  
"That´s it. Come on, James, we´re leaving. One of you is already enough trouble for the universe, two are unthinkable. I shudder when I imagine what you two could do."  
"If it wasn´t for the Blinovitch Limitation Factor, I´d be all for exploring that idea," future!James said.  
"Who is Blinovitch?"  
"Oh, you´ll find out soon enough. Or not."  
He grinned and waved at the disappearing Doctor. "Until next time!" he called out.  
The Doctor turned around and for a moment, his face turned soft and he smiled fondly. "I look forward to it."  
Then he left and James followed. "Hey, me!" future!James said, "just keep an eye on him, okay?"  
"Trust me, I will."  
"I know. Also, do you remember that song about sympathy and the devil?"  
"Yes?"  
"No reason. Now go, before he accidentally takes off without you. Or not, having you around would be all kinds of awesome."  
"James!" the Doctor thundered from probably across half the museum.  
"Bye future-me, I look forward to becoming you!"  
Bye past-me. I loved being you."


	43. What happened to the wonder of wonderland?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brother Grimm strikes again

Wally hated Brother Grimm with a passion. And he hated the person who had told that guy of Alice in Wonderland even more. Brother Grimm had sent him into various fairytales before, but Alice didn´t exactly qualify.  
And yet, he was stuck as a white rabbit and followed Linda around. She was the pissiest Alice he had ever seen, grabbing a sword in her hand. He didn´t exactly know where she had gotten it, but he figured that she´d be better off with a weapon in this world, especially now that Brother Grmm had added his little twists.  
The run in with the twins - Tweedle-something and Toodle-Doo or whatever he was called - was bad enough; Brother Grimm had abducted the Mirror Master and somehow multiplied him.  
And the tea party - party his ass! The doormouse - which looked a bit like Chewbacca and Captain Boomerang - had lain drunk on the table, the march hare had looked to the skies and asked why it wouldn´t stop raining, and the poor Hatter, clad in the stripes of the Trickster had looked at him and Linda and begged. "I don´t want to be mad. Please, help me. I´m losing my marbles here and I can´t find them alone. I don´t want to be mad, please."  
The stupid cat was no help either. Wally suspected that - with a moustache like this - it was probably Kadabra, and he was likely to give very bad advice indeed. He vanished in and out of existence, leaving riddles that made no sense.  
He was wondering when they´d run into Piper - apparently Brother Grimm regarded the Pied Piper as his property and always dragged him along - when they came onto a clearing.  
He did find Piper, alright, but four of him. But not the same Piper - he saw Piper in his old Rogues days, in the first days of reforming wearing that cape and ridiculous boots, then how he was now with that ponytail, and then...whoa, that was dark. The note-motif on his belt was a giveaway, but the figure clad in black with a dark green hood sent shivers over his spine. He really wished that he had a voice to talk now, but whenever he opened his rabbit mouth, the words "Alice, too late, too late" came out so he had spent their trip silent.  
The four Pipers didn´t seemed to notice them. Then they began to sing and it was creepy. The words didn´t make sense to Wally, but Linda seemed to understand. Figured Wally was going mad, too.  
"Slay him. Make us free. Slay him. Make us free." the Pipers chanted in unison. Wally wanted to run. The Pipers came closer, that creepy grin on their faces and it made Waly sick to find his friend that way.  
"Slay him, make us free. Slay him, make us free. Take his head, slay him, make us free. Slay! Slay! Slay!"  
Linda picked him up and started to run.

The Piper´s chant still rang in Wally´s ears.  
"Slay him, make us free. Slay us, make us free. Slay. Free. Slay!"  
He looked up to Linda and wanted to comfort her.  
"Alice, too late!" his voice spoke without his consent.  
But Linda being Linda, she understood him anyway.  
"We are going to slay a jabberwock, Wally."  
She gripped that sword tighter.  
Wally really hated Brother Grimm.


	44. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James breaks, then shatters.

There are two kinds of dreams.  
There are the pictures you see in the night; the nonsensical dreams where your magic carpet won´t start because it has an engine problem which you can´t fix because carpets don´t have engines but it still won´t start because it has an engine problem; then the nightmares brought on by the wrong kind of food before bed or the wrong things seen and done.  
And then there are the dreams that you want to come true: when you dream about having a house, marriage, kids and motorcycles.

Piper knows all about those dreams at night, but the other kind of dream has always been a bit tricky. He spent the first half of his life being too young, too angry, too ignorant to know what he wanted, to dream. Then he dreams and it´s wonderful. He doesn´t dream of settling down in suburbia with 2.4 kids and a dog. He dreams of the perfect man, a nice apartment, rats and music.  
His dream man has never been real to him, he had never seen a face, never seen a figure, he was just there, on another level of consciousness. He didn´t need to see him to know who he was.  
But it was a dream, nothing more.

Piper did get a very nice apartment, stuffed with music cds, with a sound equipment the army would have liked a look at, with books, rats, take-out menus, a comfy couch and an awesome view. He has rats, dozens over the years. He will always have music.  
All he needs now is his perfect man.  
Piper is too cynic to believe in perfection. He doesn´t believe that his dream will come true.  
Until, he sees James again. James had been a bit shaky after the whole "I got turned into glass"-fiasco and had asked for comfort in his own unique way. He threw stuff at you and yelled for you to go away. If he had really wanted you to go, he would make you go.  
So Piper picked the lock to his apartment without a second thought and found James in his bedroom. The curtains were drawn and a blanket hung in front of the mirror. James himself was huddled into a ball on the bed, cradling his arm against his chest.  
"Are you...why am I even asking, you´re not okay."  
"Go away." James said without looking up.  
"I´m not. You´re a friend, you´re hurt and I´m here to help."  
"You can help by leaving."  
"I´m not leaving you."  
"Why not? Everyone else has. Rogues, Mindy, Selina, even my pet parrot left!"  
Oh, that was what it was about. His old friends the Rogues had first died and the first thing they did when they were returned to earth was to attack James and turn him into glass which threatened to shatter even with the slightest of touches. The Rogues had been - literal - soulless monsters, but it was fixed now. But of course they were too confused, embarassed or anything to try to apologize. They probably thought they´d be doing him a favor by not showing their faces, to not remind him of what they had done to him. Mindy...he didn´t know who she was, the same with Selina. That thing about the parrot, though, was true.  
"You´ll know the guys will come around, they just have been through a lot. And about those women...well, women seem drawn to you, I´m sure you´ll see them again. Come on, you´re the Trickster! The Trickster doesn´t mope."  
"Maybe the Trickster doesn´t, but James does. And James is lonely, and James was turned into glass and James almost died and no one came and-"  
Piper climbed on the bed and wrapped his arms around James as best as he could.  
"But James survived. James will be okay. And James will always have Piper, okay?"  
Piper pretended not to have heard the sniffle and not to have seen the tears.  
"Can we stop talking about me in the third person now?"  
Piper hugged him in response.  
Screw perfection.  
Piper just knew it, he felt it...he had found his dream man.

Of course it didn´t work. James was straight, then it turned out that he even had a kid, and then things went to hell.  
Piper´s parents were murdered, he had been framed, put into jail, and he escaped to the one place where he knew someone would help him. To James.  
At this point, both of them were a bit broken and definetely not in the right place for well, anything.  
Then, after that was painfully over, Wally vanished and Piper looked out for Bart.  
Then, that failed. Both Piper and James were a lot more broken after that.

Then came the run, the chase, the endless cold nights and the darkness.  
Then came a man with the mission to kill them.  
James died.  
He shattered.

 

Life had killed Piper´s dream.  
And only Piper was left to pick up the pieces.


	45. Smooth Talker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James' verbal skills can get him out of or into everything

James was a smooth talking son of a gun.  
With a few words and a smile, he could get anything he wanted.  
Whether it was information, an invitation or even money.  
He spun lies as easy as breathing.

"Oh, excuse me, miss. I´m so sorry for disturbing you, but I´ve lost my schedule. Can you tell me when the train to Seattle leaves?"  
Hunched shoulders, slumped posture, looking up with baby blue eyes and a tentiative smile.  
"Of course. In 10 minutes at platform 7."  
A small grateful smile and a whispered "Thank you."  
"Are you okay? Is there anything else you need?"  
And he was in. He left on the train with a cup of coffee, a bag of sweets and the wallets of several people walking by.

"Ah, scusi! I - ah - sorry for walking to you. I try to go to my sorella...my...ah, my sister and I is lost. Do you help, per piacere?"  
The Flash grinned brightly.  
"Okay, Mister. Where. Does. Your. Sister. Live?"  
Why did people always assume that talking louder and like a robot would help other people understand them better?  
James put a big smile on his face. "Grazie! I have a card with address."  
He shoved a map into the Flash´s face. "See? There sister lives."  
The Flash looked puzzled and then turned the map the right way around.  
While he was distracted, Piper broke out of the police car, cloaked into a sound-nullifying field. He sneaked past the Flash who was trying to explain to James - to the clueless Italian tourist - where the Sunset Square was.  
"Then you go left. LEFT, you know?"  
"Ah....leeft. A destra?" he pointed with his right finger.  
The Flash who saw it from his perspective and interpreted it as "left", nodded.  
"Then straight ahead and there you are."  
"Grazie!" James said and hugged the Flash. The Flash looked puzzled but shrugged it off as a European thing.  
James decided to push it and kissed the Flash on both cheeks.  
"You good uomo, you know."  
Then the Flash had a minor freakout and ran away.  
When he was out of earshot and reunited with Piper he howled with laughter and eventually had to sit down.

(scusi - excuse me  
sorella - sister  
per piacere - please  
a destra - right  
grazie - thanks  
uomo - man)


	46. Romancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper tries his hand at being romantic.

Piper wasn´t that great with romance.  
Not that he wanted to be great  
with it, he didn´t like the concept of romance. No chocolate pralines,  
no flowers, no long walks on the beach into the sunset (not that  
Keystone had a beach anyway) - it was just fluff, meaningless fluff  
promoted by the capitalistic industries. And with the people he dated,  
romance wasn´t exactly a choice. His highschool and college flings (for  
lack of a better word) never lasted long enough for any sort of that  
thing.

Then came Michael and a huge part of why they failed was that Michael was a great romancer and Piper was not.

Then came Earl and the option of romance went right out of the window.  
Earl was fury, he was dark, he was tough. He was leather jackets and  
motorcycles, he was thrill, rush and dark rugged handsomeness. They  
never really went onto dates - if you didn´t count heists as dates - and  
when they were together, romance wasn´t what they thought of. That  
couldn´t last and Earl went to jail.

Then...then came James.  
James was great. And suddenly Piper wanted romance. He wanted to try and  
really make an effort. What food did James like? What color? What music?  
Where did he like to go on vacation? What about his family? Did he have  
siblings? Did he..was he...would he - his world revolved around James.  
It went well, it was great, but ...it didn´t last.  
And Piper had tried, had tried so hard and he had failed.

And then came James...well, the other James, the first James, the god damn Trickster. Piper was scared he´d ruin it again.  
He may be a terrible romancer, but he was damned if he wasn´t going to try.


	47. Composers hate Cellists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper is going to make a composer pay for writing the dullest cellist part ever.

"This is a disaster! It´s an insult! How dare they? How?!"  
James carefully weighed his option: he could fake being asleep, jump out of  
the window or try to calm Piper down from that last rant. He hadn´t  
finished putting on the second walker when Piper burst into his room.  
"I will make the symphonic orchestra pay. Are you coming?"  
James froze. The window was just two steps, one leap away.  
"James, you´re thinking about jumping out of the window, aren´t you?"  
"Maybe," he admitted.  
"Don´t. I need someone with your level of expertise on making life hell for other people."  
James gave in. "Okay, I´m listening."  
"I hate Pachebel."  
"Okay. Where does the guy live?"  
"He´s dead."  
"...he´s not a zombie, is he?"  
"He was a composer. And he wrote this one stupid piece of music."  
He hummed a few bars until James´ face lit up.  
"I know that one, it´s nice."  
"It is not nice. It is definetely not nice if you play the cello."  
"I thought you played the flute."  
"Normally yes, but I wanted to blend in. I joined the symphonic orchestra, I  
wanted just to make music, to be a part of them, but I figured that  
someone in there might be smart enough to link a new expert-level flute  
player to the known flute criminal. Since I can play pretty much every  
instrument, I chose the cello. It´s nice, it´s soothing, it sounds  
great. Except for Pachelbel! God! That man hated cellists! Do you know  
what I have to play? The same 8 fucking notes over and over again. Over  
and over! What a waste of my talent! I´m a genius, I´m better than this.  
I will make the orchestra pay for giving me this humiliating part!"  
"But...you chose the cello yourself."  
"So?"  
"It´s not their fault, it´s yours."  
"No, it´s Pachelbel´s."  
"He´s dead. And unless you want to raise him so that you can punish him, there´s nothing we can do."  
"But I want to make someone pay!"  
James sighed.  
"Calm down, make yourself some tea, please put the flute away."  
Piper sat down on the bed. "You´re right. Damn, why did you have to be right?  
I was just in the right mood for wrecking something."  
"But you like playing in the orchestra. You love it! And you´re not giving it up  
because of one dead guy and his hate for cellists."  
"I guess not."  
"Good. And if you behave yourself now, maybe we go and wreck something later.  
We haven´t robbed the last museum exhibiton yet. That´ll cheer you up,  
huh?"  
"I guess. But only if I can bring the cello."  
"Fine, you can bring the cello."  
James patted Piper´s head and went into the kitchen.

Since when was he the responsible one?


	48. Welcome to Gotham, Canada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a boomtube lands Piper and James in a strange universe.
> 
> (inspired by the speculation of how canadian the new dcu is...since everything looks like canada)

"What the hell happened? Why are there Tim Hortons everywhere? Where did all the hockey come from? Piper!"  
"Calm down. It´s...sorry, I have landed us somewhere else. Don´t worry, it´s  
not our universe, this isn´t home. This is the future...the future of  
another world."  
"Good, because it´s freaking me out."  
"Well, everything is really...Canadian, but it´s not too bad."  
"Piper, you really don´t know where we are?"  
"Future-Elseworld-Canada?"  
"Look up."  
Piper did and saw tall skyscrapers, towering buildings, gothic architecture and gargoyles and..."Oh god, it´s Gotham!"  
"Canadian Gotham!"  
"Okay, I agree, this is freaking me out. Why is Gotham suddenly Canadian?"  
They walked into an internet café and researched for a bit.  
In this world, Canada had been taken over in the 21st century by a  
"benevolent dictator" from Europe who had solved economical and  
ecological problems, introduced social reforms and had expanded Canada  
until the USA from the Great Lakes to the East Coast became Canadian  
territory.  
And that woman had had a flying fortress of doom, a robot army and a backup zombie army.  
This world definetely was very, very weird.  
Piper tried again to bring them home with his boom tube powers. They had  
landed finally in their universe, albeit not in Kansas but Hawaii.  
They figured they had earned a vacation after that.


	49. Round here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James feels like is nothing.

James walks out of the door and becomes a ghost in the fog.  
The nameless masses, the people walking around everyday are like shapeless forms, like fog and blindness.  
James is different. He walks through people, through lifes and leaves behind nothing but a feeling of emptiness.

He walks between the lines, he walks between right and wrong.  
He becomes a ghost between people, a sliver of a life in nothingness.

The world around him has changed; his friends died, one after one, until  
there is no one left. The Flash died to save the world, and the world  
was reborn, renewed. But James stayed the same, so in the new world, he  
became a ghost who doesn´t belong.  
Sometimes it feels as if he  
should be dead, too, as if he is dead. He´s tired of life....well, of  
the something that has replaced it.


	50. Hostages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues rob a bank, and the hostages actually end up havong a small party

Rogues weren´t really big on the hostage-thing. Sure, there were people  
when they robbed a bank, sometimes when they robbed a museum during  
daylight or sometimes unlucky bystanders when they were running away.  
They didn´t deliberately set out to endanger civilians.  
Mostly they had a quite relaxed relationship to their hostages.

Most of the citizens knew that they weren´t likely to be harmed and were sure that the Flash was just seconds away.  
During a bank job, the building surrounded by police, the Rogues waited for  
the negotiator to arrive while they guarded the hostages.  
And by guarding, they meant socializing.  
Mark flirted with a soccer mom while her kid exclaimed "Mom!" shocked every  
so often. "No flirting with dangerous criminals, remember?"  
"Let mommy let her fun for once. Now, say that about my eyes being like a starry night again?"

 

Mick was arm-wrestling a security guard. The guard won and grinning wildly,  
pulled the pile of cash to his side. "Two out of three?" Mick suggested.  
"Mate, we passed that a long time ago. Now it´s 21 of 40. Are you in?"  
"Hell yeah!"

Len was yelling at a clerk. "No way, it was the fault of that damn referee. That wasn´t a foul!"  
"It was! That was a foul if I ever saw one!"  
"Bullshit!"  
"They lost! Face it, the cubs suck!"

James was putting on a show for the kids who had accompanied their parents to  
the bank. He was doing backflips, walked on his hands and cartwheeled  
through the whole bank. "This is better than the circus!" a little boy  
exclaimed happily.

The hostages pretended not to be slightly disappointed when the Flash finally showed up and arrested the Rogues.


	51. Samantha Mason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam forces the other Rogues to watch tv with him

"No! Not the red one!" Sam yelled at the screen as the FBI agent was  
defusing the bomb. The cop drama with Samantha Mason, super secret  
government agent and former beauty queen, had filled his wednesday  
evenings for the last two months.  
The agent on screen received a message on her commlink and moved the pair of scissors to the blue wire.  
"Yes! That´s my girl! It´s always the blue wire!"

"Ummm..."  
James leaned over to Piper who was looking mildly interested at the  
screen. Sam´s plan to ignite their love for Samantha Mason didn´t work  
on him. The show was all action: gun fights, car chases, witty quips and  
the female lead in ever changing costumes that were either skin-tight,  
showed a lot of cleavage or both.  
"What´s up, James?" he asked, more interested in the popcorn bowl than the screen.  
"I thought..do people really do that? Yell at the screen?"  
"Apparently Sam does."

"Oh god, Sam, no! Don´t trust him, he´s the mole!" Sam said.  
Piper shrugged and hogged the popcorn bowl.  
James scooted away from Sam which brought him closer to the snoring Digger.  
He shrugged as well and stole Digger´s untouched beer.  
It wasn´t by far the weirdest movie night he´d ever been to.

"That´s my girl!"


	52. Trickster on Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James makes a roadtrip to Gotham to visit Selina.

The plan was perfect.  
It was so simple it was brilliant.

James packed a suitcase, put the present on the seat next to him, stashed a  
special suitcase in the secret compartment of his trunk, bought travel  
proviant (candy, candy, candy and candy), put on his sunglasses and  
drove into the sunrise towards Gotham.  
He didn´t like Gotham for various reasons - gloomy atmosphere, crime rate, gothic atmosphere,  
bats, superhero bats and the crazy homicidal villains. But he liked  
Selina so he went anyway.

He arrived in the late evening, candy stash almost gone, sunglasses in the glove compartment and genuinely sick of radio music.  
Already he had a bad feeling. It felt like someone had walked over his grave.  
But he went up to the house anyway, rang the bell and when a voice - the  
voice, her voice - answered, he simply said "Surprise visit, Miss Kitty!"  
He could hear a barely surpressed laugh, then she opened the door.

She was beautiful.  
She was also dressed for going out.  
Normally, James was smart, fast, witty, funny and eloquent, but when he saw her  
like that, words failed him and his IQ dropped 50 points.  
"Hi," he said. This was so not going how he had imagined it.  
"I didn´t expect to see you here," she said...no, purred.  
"I thought I´d surprise you."  
"That you did, that you did. Look James, I´m sorry, but"  
Oh no, she was going out, she didn´t have time, she already had a-  
"I´ve gotten you a kitten!" he blurted out.  
"Sorry, what?"  
"Kitten.  
Fluffy, small, adorable. It´s for you. I haven´t named it yet. Mainly  
because I don´t know if it´s a boy-kitten or a girl-kitten, but now you  
can name it."  
"Oh, James-"  
"Look!"  
He showed her the kitten - a tiny ball of yellow-ish fur who meowed and looked at her hopefully.  
"James, I-"  
The kitten even had stripes on its back. And now he was looking at her like  
that. But she did not have time, there was the gala at the museum which  
was about to host an exhibition with pieces from Egypt, and Bruce was  
coming, and she lost the battle against two pairs of big, pleading eyes.  
She smiled. "Come on in, then. Aren´t you a cute little fluffball?"  
"Me or the kitten?"  
She faced him and smiled. His heart just melted.  
"I haven´t decided yet."


	53. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art is in the eye of the beholder

Every Rogue had an unique artistic talent.  
Even if the rest of society could not be convinced to regard their talents as "art".

Everyone knew that Roy was a great artist...just his colors sucked. But other  
than that, he was marvelous. Impeccable sketches, impressive linework,  
beautiful shading and techniques that Picasso would have been jealous  
of.

Piper was a natural at every instrument. Brass, woodwind,  
strings, percussion - he just needed five minutes and he´d produce the  
most wonderful sounds you´d ever heard.

That was what was conventionally called "art".

James  
was a star aerialist. Backflips, salti, cartwheels, stunts on the wire  
that took your breath away, trapeze work that left you in awe and  
everyone enchanted.

Lisa was an olympic-level skater. She  
twirled with ease, jumped impossibly high and did everything with a  
silent grace you´d never expected.

Most people agreed that that was art, too.

Digger had impeccable aim with everything, but especially boomerangs. Slicing cans in half from a mile away was impressive.  
And dangerous, especially when done with a boomerang equipped with a bomb.

Mark  
had a very good memory for quotes. Say some line from Shakespeare, he´d  
know where it was from. Say a line from Mark Twain he´d not only say  
where it was from, he´d know on which page of which edition it stood and  
why Twain had written it.

Some people would call that an art form, too.

Sam was able to teleport himself out of jail with just a pair of shined shoes.

Len could crush beer cans against his forehead.

Roscoe could identify wine with a creepy degree of accuracy. Which year, which  
type, where it was from, which degree the mountain had, if the soil was  
dry or not and more things the rest of the Rogues didn´t even know what  
they meant.

Art, seriously?

Mick could balance water colour pencils on his nose.  
To him, it was an art, at least.


	54. What are friends for?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally asks a favor.

"Piper, could you come over? It´s sort of an emergency," Wally asked. He  
sounded distressed, so Piper came as soon as he was able to.  
"Are you okay, Wally? You hung up before I could ask what was wrong."  
Wally dragged him into their apartment and put both of his hands on Piper´s shoulders.  
"Piper, you´re probably my best friend. I´ve known you for years, through bad and good times."  
"Wally, what´s wrong?"  
"Promise me not to laugh."  
"What?"  
"Promise me."  
"Are you serious?"  
"Piper!"  
"Okay, okay, I promise not to laugh at whatever it is you still haven´t told me."  
"I need you to keep Linda company."  
"That´s not remotely funny."  
"That is not the part you´re not supposed to laugh at."  
Piper sighed. "Then what is it?"  
"Wally!" someone called from the living room. A man? Oh great, more mysteries.  
"Coming!" Wally answered.  
But he just pushed Piper into the room and then ran away, possibly as fast as he could.  
What the hell had that been about?  
Piper entered the living room.  
Only through sheer self control did he manage not to laugh.  
Linda ...had been transformed into a man. Somehow.  
"Hello,"  
he managed to squeak out, not trusting himself to say anything else.  
Already he felt the laughter bubbling up inside of him.  
"Wally ran off, huh?"  
Piper nodded.  
"He didn´t tell you before, did he?"  
He nodded.  
"I´ll kill him myself when he´s back."  
Piper sat down on the couch next to her. Her hair was shorter, she had a  
goatee (which he tried not to find adorable) and wore Wally´s clothes.  
"Um," he coughed, "how?"  
"Magic.  
The Justice League pissed some goddess off, she put a curse on them  
turning their loved ones well...like this, and they´re trying to fix it.  
Meanwhile, I´m stuck like," she gestured vaguely at her chest, "this."  
She looked at him.  
"Go on, laugh. I´m mad at Wally, not you."  
He tried, he really tried, but he couldn´t help himself. He laughed so hard his sides hurt like hell.  
"Heads up, Linda. At least you´re hot," he said between giggles.  
She looked pleased, somehow.  
"I´m glad you said that," she told him with one of her evil grins, "because I had a few ideas..."

Wally was going to be very sorry he had just left like that.


	55. Don't stop me now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a zombie apocalypse, James comes back to life, cons people, yells at Flash, flees from the police and finds Piper. It's been a good day for the Trickster.

The next big crisis was barely averted (zombies, really?), the world was  
safe, and old, boring and empty again. Piper slipped away from the  
mall-turned-emergency-shelter he had defended against someone who  
probably had been a dead supervillain, but was unrecognizeable due to  
the other costume and the "Flesh!" thing. He was exhausted and didn´t  
stop for the people wanting to thank him, didn´t stop for the mayor who  
had hidden himself inside a closet and who shouted he´d give Piper a key  
to the city and didn´t stop for the police who were unsure about  
arrresting him - partially because there just had been a zombie  
infestation, partially because Iron Heights was now not a real option  
and partially because people yelled at them to stay away from their  
savior and hero.

A few rats followed him home, back to the dark  
lair that Rathaway Manor had become. In another life he would have been  
amused that the police hadn´t even looked for him there because it was  
so obvious, but not now. Not this Piper.  
He needed sleep. Or food. Or...something, to make the emptiness go away.  
As he passed his computer, he opened his smaller music archive - which  
was still several terrabytes big - and put it on shuffle. No thinking,  
no logic, no order: just him and random music.  
Piper stripped off his costume, chucked it into a laundry basket and took a shower. While  
the rats did drag his dirty clothes to the washing machine and started  
doing his housework (not that he had told them to, they just thought  
they could help that way), they did not accompany him to the bathroom.  
They also didn´t wonder why he stayed for almost two hours under the  
increasingly colder water. The emptiness was unbearable.  
Piper eventually got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a bathrobe and went  
back to the cellar, filled with music instruments he didn´t feel like  
playing, tech he didn´t want to tinker with and rats he didn´t want to  
see. He sighed and sank down onto the couch. He should sleep. He was  
exhausted, but somehow - the need to sleep was nothing against the vast  
amount of nothing that was in his chest. Eventually he did drift off,  
right between "I need a hero" and "When you wish upon a star".

Piper was still imbued with the power of the gods, with the power to destroy a  
whole planet, to make people do his will, to walk between and through  
universes. And while he dreamt, while he slept, something happened. All  
that power, buried under painful memories and so human limits, broke  
free. It wanted to help Piper, too, in its own way.

And in that night, clouds seemed like living things, thunder roared and a star fell  
to earth. Only it wasn´t a star. Or maybe it was, if all stars are loved  
ones that passed away and now look down on earth.

James Jesse gasped and was alive. He was just there, from one second to the next.  
Frantically he clutched his chest, his forehead and found only  
unblemished skin. No bullet holes, no blodd, no nothing. Either this was  
a very strange heaven, or a very strange hell.  
Also, he was naked.  
Then, he remembered. He remembered dying, but not leaving. After  
his...his...untimely departure, he had stayed around. He had been with  
Piper all the way to this point, no point in leaving now.  
"I can´t abandon him" he had thought and that matter was settled. Afterlife could  
wait, he had a friend to protect. He had followed Piper in silence,  
shocked by his friend´s grief more than by his own death. Eventually he  
had started talking. Most of his sentences began with "I´m not sure if  
you can hear me" and it never seemed like Piper could. James kept  
talking because it was giving him something to do except watch in  
growing horror as his body decayed. And then, Piper answered. James felt  
strange. Shouldn´t he be happy that he wasn´t alone, that he wasn´t a  
ghost? Piper could hear him! And somehow, this was more horrible than  
the silence. Dragging your friend´s body through a desert with a bomb on  
your wrist was one thing, but dragging the decaying body of your dead  
friend through the desert with a bomb strapped to your wrist and hearing  
the dead body talk...and answering him, that was even worse.

Eventually he could convince Piper to cut off his hand. Piper had now  
better chances of survival, and he wouldn´t have to look at his dead  
face anymore.  
Then there was this blinding light, and then they were  
gone. This was Apokolips. James started screaming, he yelled at Piper  
to go, to run, get away from that man! Piper couldn´t hear him anymore.  
But James could still see him, and his heart broke. Piper! Even as that  
man revealed that he had been responsible for his death, even after  
Piper killed that guy, he felt barely anything. The concern for Piper  
didn´t leave room for anything else.  
Then he heard a song, a little melody that should mean something to him.  
Then he died.

And now he is alive, sitting naked in a damn alleyway in god-knows-where  
and checks his wrist every five seconds to see if his hand is still  
there. It is, of course it is.  
After a while, he gets up. He may as well be naked someplace else. Preferrably somewhere where he can get some clothes.  
In barely no time at all he finds a clothing line - do these really exist  
nowadays? - and instead of just stealing, he literally charms a pair of  
pants from the old lady watching from the window nearby. He tells her he  
was mugged. And it works, she believes and now he is dressed in old  
clothes from the lady´s granddaughter. Luckily for him, the girl must be  
an amazon. While her leggings fit perfectly - and shouldn´t that worry  
him just a bit, except it feels so good to wear pants like his again -  
the shirt is a bit too tight. It also sports the logo of a band he  
doesn´t recognize. He sits in the lady´s - her name is Marge - kitchen,  
drinks some tea and has the best conversation of his life when the cops  
show up. Of course Marge called them, she is a good citizen and pitied  
the poor mugged man. James thanks Marge for the tea, promises to wash  
and return the clothes when Marge - cheeky, cheeky old fox that she is -  
tells him to keep them. Apparently the leggings do wonders for his  
legs. The cop takes him to his car and they drive to the station for his  
statement. And of course, the cop keeps staring at his legs in a way  
that he finds one part flattering and three parts creepy, since he wears  
a girl´s leggings. They arrive and James dodges the cops and runs up  
the staircase until he finds whom he was looking for: Detectives Chyre  
and Morillo. Chyre swears, Morillo drops his coffee mug.  
"I hope this was due to my existence and not attire." He grins and feels right at home.  
They make some phone calls, but not before warning him not to touch  
anything. For good measure, Chyre handcuffs him to the heater. Of course  
James is free a couple of seconds later and rummages through the  
office. He hacks the computer password (12345 was still a bad password  
in Spaceballs, which is a Mel Brooks parody from 1987 before the big  
hype about data security) and learns. Man, he is dead for a couple of  
weeks and everything goes down the drain.  
When the detectives come back they yell at him some more, telling him that having been dead or  
not, he´s still a criminal. He tells them that, having been dead or not,  
he is still a federal agent who is not-so-undercover anymore and earns  
about three times as much as both of them put together.  
They don´t quite know how to answer and Morillo goes off to phone the FBI. Chyre  
stares at him. "I don´t suppose you have some clothes in the station  
that you could lend me, do you?" James asks. The legginsg thing is  
getting ridiculous. He even got a catcall from a cop who walked in to  
bring Chyre a file.

Then he hears a woosh, and ohgodyes the Flash!  
The Flash stares at him, then circles him warily and asks a few questions only the real  
James Jesse could answer. James cuts him short by saying that the old  
Flash used to strip him down to his underwear to incapacitate him and is  
damn lucky he´s dead because James was still a minor when he started  
this gig, which means that the Flash used to strip an underage boy. The  
Flash goes a funny shade of grey before James laughs and tells him that  
he really was 21 when he started, he just couldn´t pass the opportunity  
to annoy both Flashes in front of police officers. He ducks a punch,  
yells "Not the nose!" and the Flash is sure it´s him. No one can be this  
annoying and this smug when wearing girly leggings. James aks where  
Piper is, and the Flash ducks his head in shame while Morillo explains  
that Piper is a dangerous fugitive.  
Now James loses it and if there had been the slightest doubt yet that he was the Trickster, it´s gone.

His face turns into a mask that is the smile  
and he speaks calmly to Wally about the vakue of friendship, of what  
Piper has gone through and how Wally is still an immature little twerp  
who doesn´t deserve to ever have had a friend like Piper and how James  
will find Piper, will talk to Piper and that he will find the Flash if  
he doesn´t like what he will hear from Piper. The Flash looks  
intimidated and ashamed, the cops are frozen in place and James is  
halfway out of the building before anyone reacts.  
He stops the Flash with a puddle of spilled coffee in the hallway (really, it shouldn´t be  
that easy), steals a cop car and races out of the parking lot. He  
ditches the GPS at the first chance he gets, and drives towards Rathaway  
Manor. It´s obvious that Piper is there.

Piper jerks awake. He heard something. Not the rats, not his laptop  
(which plays something from Starlight Express), not his own nightmares.  
An intruder.  
The flute to his lips, he sneaks around his own house. His parents´ house.  
The intruder has opened a window and is standing halfway in the shadows.

This can´t be. But he hears the familiar breathing, he hears the heartbeat. James.  
But James is dead, he saw him die, he dragged his corpse around.  
"It really is me," James says softly.  
"No, you´re not," Piper replies. This man can´t be James. He looks like  
James, he sounds like James, he even has his fashion sense, but it can´t  
be James.  
"James is dead."  
"I got better."  
"Prove it," Piper growls. The rats are coming, their little feet coming closer. In the shadows behind him, green eyes appear.  
Piper is not sure if he is still dreaming or if this is a sick joke. He can´t  
take it anymore. If that impostor makes one wrong move...  
"Another hero, another mindless crime," James sings. His voice is steady, full of confidence and he takes one step closer.  
"Behind the curtain," and Piper takes one step back. It can´t be. James can´t know that. James was dead.  
"I watched over you, you know. Kept you company, kept talking."  
No, impossible. That was his own madness talking, that was dehydration, and shock, and trauma, and  
"And I knew that you heard me, you answered. But once we were on that planet  
you didn´t listen. I screamed, I yelled, but to no avail. But you did  
alright. You exploded that guy´s head. I didn´t know you could do that.  
And then...then you played this song. You said it was for me."  
There are tears in Piper´s eyes. "But you can´t! You can´t be here! You´re dead!"  
"And now I´m alive. I´m so sorry, Hartley."  
And that breaks the spell. Piper wraps his arms around James and cries  
against his chest. "It´s you, it really is you," he says between sobs,  
"you´re alive."  
James cries, too. "Yes, it´s me. I don´t know how I can be, but I am."  
James tells Piper about his regrets, about what he did that he shouldn´t  
have, about the times he spoke when he should have been silent, about  
the wrong words at the wrong time. Piper just tightens his embrace. He  
forgave James long ago. He couldn´t stay mad at a man who sacrificed his  
own life to give Piper a chance.  
They don´t know how long they stand in a dark hallway, surrounded by rats and shadows.  
"What do we do now?" Piper asks.  
"What we always do: give the Flash hell for being a crappy friend, get  
revenge on certain someones, and generally be awesome. Come on, Piper,"  
he grabs Piper´s hand, the one he was so close to for so long, and  
smiles at Piper, "the show must go on!"


	56. Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark goes to see his son. It ends in tears

The Rogues found a note in their last hideout, pinned to the chair the Weather Wizard had been sitting on yesterday.  
It read "Gone for father´s day, be back whenever."  
That was Mark-code for "I just stole my own baby"

That could only end in tears for everyone involved.

Mark was in no way fit to be a parent. He loved his son, but he didn´t know  
anything about children, about raising kids... and he had a bit of a  
superiority complex, superpowers that seemed to spiral out of control  
and was a fugitive criminal. That was no life for a child.  
What if Mark got put into jail? What if he got hurt? What if... they didn´t dare to think that.

Try telling that to Mark.

They found Mark, they found the baby, and then the Flash found them, too, and everything went to hell.

In the end they brought in Piper to negotiate, and even Trickster showed  
up. They always forgot that he actually did have a son. And then he told  
Mark about why his girlfriend Mindy, the mother of his child, had left.  
The Trickster wouldn´t have been dad material, was too inexperienced,  
too arrogant, too much Trickster to ever be just a dad. In a way, it was  
good that Billy had grown up without his influence, even if saying that  
was the hardest thing he had ever done.

Baby Josh went with the Flash to the home of Iris West, the Rogues fled before the Flash could  
return to arrest them, dragging Mark along with them, which left only Piper and Trickster at the scene.  
"Was that the truth?" Piper asked.  
"Honestly...no.  
If I had known, I would have dropped everything. It probably would have  
...damaged me, but at least Billy and Mindy would have been happy. She  
knew that, and she left before that could happen. I often wonder what  
could have been if...well, you know."  
The mask of the Trickster started to crack, the mask he had kept on so carefully when he was  
talking to Mark, the mask that said "I´m mature, I´m serious, I know, I understand, it´s for the best".  
"And now I will never know...what could have been..."  
Piper put a hand on Trickster´s shoulder. "There, there...who knows? Handsome  
guy like you could easily find a girl...though really, you and settling  
down?"  
"House in suburbia, white picket fence, dog and all"  
"That´s a soap opera in the 50s, not life,"  
"I know. But a guy can dream, can´t he?"  
Piper patted Trickster´s back and pretended not to notice the single tear on his face.


	57. Soft drinks for hard men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues and drinks

The old bar in Keystone was a notorious villain hangout. It was neutral  
ground at best: heroes didn´t come in to arrest everyone, and villains  
didn´t abuse that fact and made evil plans. It was just a piece of  
quiet, a place to relax and to have a beer without the danger of someone  
recognizing who you were and then calling the police.

In one corner, Roscoe was playing three games of chess simultaneously,  
occasionally pausing to sip at his espresso. No one besides Roscoe ever  
ordered espresso. The Rogues had made fun of his choice until Len had  
tried one when Roscoe had challenged him. He later described it as  
having a heart attack and every Rogue kept a respectful distance between  
himself and espressi.

James like soft drinks in ridiculous colors and which probably glowed in the dark. The Rogues decided to let  
him rot his teeth in peace.

Len was a beer drinker through and through.  
Except when his ulcer acted up and he sheepishly ordered milk.

Mark´s poison of choice was bourbon. And luckily for the barkeeper, he preferred the expensive stuff.

Sam liked caffee. To the barkeeper´s dismay, he also liked starbucks and  
tried to order a double soy milk latte macchiato with diet chocolate  
sprinklers and caramel on top and the like. So far, he hadn´t caught on  
that the barkeeper just made him regular coffee with whipped cream and  
pretended that that was exactly what Sam had ordered. Because Sam also  
had the tendency to sip from his friends´beers while he waited and was  
always a bit tipsy before he got his beverage.

Piper kept to ginger ale, or the occassional glass of fancy wine.

Everyone kept out of the way of Digger and Mick. Digger liked Coca Cola. Mick liked Pepsi.  
It was always just a matter of time before either one of them said something to tick the other off.  
And the Rogues had learnt a long time ago not to pick sides, no matter which drink they preferred.


	58. Botany for Beginners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues and gardening

The Rogues had no knack for gardening.  
Mick and the concept of not setting things occassionally on fire never got along well.  
Len couldn´t bring hismelf to care.  
Digger had no experience with things that needed some sort of care - even his pet cactus had died a lonely death.  
Sam´s knowledge of flora extended to a shop he frequented to buy flowers for his dates.  
What Lisa knew about gardening was that other people did it and that she could steal flowers afterwards.  
Roscoe did "speak" the language of flowers because he thought that he should, not because he cared.  
Mark should be the perfect gardener, he could give them any weather they  
wanted, but he liked hitting things with lightning far too much for plants to survive long.  
As for James and Piper, after an encounter  
with Poison Ivy of which they never spoke of, they kind of shied away  
everytime they saw green.


	59. Eternity for a night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper spends the first and the last night with James

Piper still tried to wrap his head around the fact that James had come  
back from the dead, had crawled out of hell itself. He watched from the  
doorway as James walked around in his secret secret hideout and packed a  
few belongings into a suitcase and a duffel bag.  
James never  
traveled lightly. He liked having lots of stuff, had storage units all  
over the city, his idea of a closet was a warehouse crossed with half a  
circus.  
But he took only a few things, he was leaving so much behind.  
After  
a disturbingly short amount of time, he was finished. James sat down on  
a matress and sighed, burying his head in his hands.  
Piper walked over. He didn´t know what to say and after a moment of hesitance, he sat down beside him.  
"It´s  
... I can´t believe it. Everything´s different and nothing has changed.  
Nothing. Speedsters are speedsters, police is the police, Rogues are  
Rogues, and yet... it´s not fun anymore. It´s dark. And it hurts, Piper,  
it hurts."  
Fabric rustled as Piper gingerly wrapped an arm around  
James´ shoulders. James had never seemed so small before. Piper was used  
to James being larger than life, being tall and proud and loud and  
bright. Never, even when he had pretended to be harmless and tiny and  
innocent, had he been so small. Piper wondered if today he was seeing  
the kid James had been years ago, the kid who had run away, the kid who  
was so afraid of falling he couldn´t do anymore what he had been doing  
all his life.  
"And, do you know what the worst part is? The worst  
thing about this mess?" Nobody besides Piper would have noticed the  
change in his voice, the tremor, the doubt, the fear.  
James lifted  
his head and looked at Piper with tears in his eyes. "I don´t want to  
leave. I don´t really want to. This is my home, my friends. The Rogues  
were the only family I ever had and even after all that happend, I don´t  
want to go."  
Piper pulled James against his chest and stroke with soothing motions over his back.  
He  
didn´t know what to say. Actually, he did know what to say. He only had  
to say "Stay. Don´t go. Don´t leave." and James would stay. And as much  
as Piper wished to be selfish again, to be once more young and immature  
and full of bad decisions, he knew what was right, what had to be done.  
He remained silent.  
"But I can´t," James said, "I can´t. I´ll die if  
I do, I know it. No matter which side I choose, someone will always be  
gunning for me, someone will always aim a gun at my head. I can´t take  
it anymore. I can´t die again, I can´t go back." He was right, so right.  
If he would become a Rogue again, he would fight the speedsters, the  
heroes and probably half of his family. Or he´d sacrifice himself again  
for one of them because that was how James was. The rules had changed,  
and death had come to the twin cities. For James it had always been all  
or nothing, but now all included his death.  
Piper didn´t really feel the hot tears on his chest but he knew that they were there.  
"I  
can keep you. How I wish that you would stay, that you´d be here with  
me. Life without you was," he didn´t say hell, never would mention that  
in front of James, "so hard. I missed you. Your laughter, your smile,  
even your stupid jokes after a while. I could make you stay, but that  
would be wrong. No matter how much I want to do it.I´d rather live  
forever without you knowing that you were safe instead of being with you  
and knowing that you will die because of me. Go, James. Look back if  
you want, but just go. Be safe." He loved James, just so much to make  
him leave and just enough to fight himself every step of the way.  
"I can´t give you forever," James said, "I just have tonight."  
"Then  
that will have to be enough," Piper replied, knowing that even an  
eternity with James would never be enough for him. James looked up at  
him and he seemed to grow, to become larger, to become more than he was,  
until he was. The Trickster was back, just for one night.  
Then  
James would leave the hideout, would leave Keystone behind and would be  
on a plane to the east, to see his son. To stay, to never return. To be  
safe, to live.  
Piper pulled off his hood. Tonight, they would both live, both be together, and then, never again


	60. In a galaxy far, far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sci-Fi AU

Hartley lay in the atrium of his parents´ house and looked at the sky.  
The weather was good, a bright orange sky and no clouds in sight. Like  
silver birds the starships crossed and left behind little white trails.  
Of course their mansion was fully sound-proofed (if not for his  
cybernetic enhancements) and protected by bodyguards, sentries and the  
watch drones. It was safe, and utterly, utterly boring.  
He often  
imagined how it must be out there, to breathe air that wasn´t filtered,  
the feel actual sunrays on his skin and to be free to go wherever he  
wanted. But his path had already been made for him, first a job in his  
father´s company, then politics and maybe a few honorary doctor titles.  
Then, a chance fell from the sky into his lap.  
Well, more like a man dropped onto the reinforced glass roof of the atrium. Hartley blinked. Surely he was dreaming!  
But  
the man seemed to be quite real; clad in a vast collection of clothes  
that didn´t match, a breathing mask over his face and a hood over his  
head. Goggles that shone with bright blue light told Hartley where the  
stranger´s eyes were, and he was looking directly at him. The man did a  
quick move with his hands that Hartley identified as a sort of greeting  
that otherworldlers often used. What was the man doing there? And, as an  
afterthought, why hadn´t he been detected? He must have tripped the  
laserwires or come across the guards or the motion sensors. Then the man  
fumbled with a pouch on his belt - a weapon?! - and drew out something  
that looked to Hartley like an ordinary storage disc. Then it whirred  
and the emergency latch on the roof clicked open. The man lifted the  
glass portion of the roof which Hartley realized he shouldn´t have been  
able to do. That thing weighed tons! With a smooth rolling movement, the  
stranger actually came inside and lowered the roof once he was in -  
while standing on thin air!  
Hartley wasn´t stupid, he knew about  
anti-grav technology, but it didn´t work like that: the man wasn´t even  
wearing an anti-grav suit!  
Suddenly, as it had just ocurred to him  
that men couldn´t fly, the man dropped down and landed in a crouch on  
the table in front of Hartley.  
In a second, however, he had thrown  
himself off the furniture and slid underneath Hartley´s couch. Hartley  
heard a faint whirring and a siren, and then he saw it: a dozen police  
shuttles, their lights flashing whizzed past the roof and his house.  
Hartley knelt on the couch, grabbed the edge with his fingers and leant  
over to look at the floor. The man had gripped the lower edge of the  
couch and had pulled himself out so that he was looking at Hartley.  
Beneath the hood, Hartley saw a few strands of golden hair peeking out,  
they were moving like they were underwater, with infinite grace.  
"Lardanar,"  
the man said, voice muffled by the breather on his face. He had never  
heard this language before, but to Hartley it sounded like "Hello."  
"Do you speak Keyes? Gothamese? Central Dialect?"  
"Yes, I do talk centralo," the man said in a strange accent, the words flowing and clear like bells.  
"Good, then you can tell me what in Rogosz´s name you are doing here?"  
And  
the man told him, in a voice that sounded like song and speech that was  
melody. His name was Gio-Gio of the Flyer´s tribe, from a system so far  
away that Hartley had never heard of it. Gio-Gio was an adventurer, he  
traveled the stars and saw the wonders of the universe. He had hitched  
his last ride on a freight ship in exchange for helping to load and  
later unload the cargo. Sadly, Captain Digger has been a smuggler and a  
bad one at that and the police were waiting as the ship touched the  
ground.  
Gio-Gio had gotten away with the help of his anti-grav  
technology, his sky-walkers. Hartley knew enough about that field of  
science to be baffled at how Gio-Gio was alive without the protection of  
an environment suit. The storage disc that wasn´t a storage disc but  
some sort of universal lock-opener was also his own invention. Hartley  
was impressed and envious. Here he was, scion of the Rathaway Imperium,  
rich beyond compare, powerful, with anything he could ever want, and he  
was jealous of this foreign man, dressed in dusty clothes from a dozen  
different planets, with shoes that made him fly, a key to every door and  
that thing in his voice that sounded like a smile.  
Gio-Gio would  
leave soon, when the heat had died down. He´d find another ship, maybe  
another cargo freighter, maybe a cruise ship, an expedition or even old  
friends of which he seemed to have a hundred at every fingertip.  
And he would be taking Hartley with him. Even if Gio-Gio didn´t know that himself yet.


	61. The more the merrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues are a family. Len just didn't expect them to take it literally

In a drunken stupor once, Len had called the Rogues a family. A pretty  
dysfunctional one, but a family. He had never meant for them to take it  
literally.

So, when Digger once came to a planning session on  
how to rob the museum´s Mark Twain exhibit, he pushed a stroller. In it  
was a baby. Digger´s baby.  
"That´s Owen," he said proudly, "say hi toyour new uncles, Owen."  
The baby gurgled and then made it evident that  
it needed new diapers. Definetely Digger´s kid.  
Len had grumbled but ultimately melted when Owen had clasped Len´s thumb in his surprisingly strong fingers.

 

Roscoe and Lisa got engaged and Mick and Sam had to keep Len from beating Roscoe into bloody pulp.

 

Then,  
one day, James announced that he was ging to be a father, that he  
expected a baby shower and damn them all if they weren´t nice to his  
wife. To be fair, Mindy took the whole "my husband and father of my kid  
is a supervillain"-thing pretty good, but then, she had been dating the  
Trickster for three years; she was probably as nuts as he was.

 

The  
next addition was little Tony Gambi, who saw them as better father  
figures than his own ever was....and that was sad on so many levels.

 

Paul Gambi had always been part of the family, even if he didn´t know it  
himself.

 

Sam died. And one day he came back out of a mirror  
with a woman and a kid. Instead of getting a normal afterlife, he had  
been walking between the mirrors until he found a magical kingdom,  
married the princess, ran away from a mob who declared him to be a demon  
and eventually landed in Scotland where he adopted (stole) little Evan.

 

One day, Mark said sheepishly that he might become a father soon. Too bad that the mother was a cop, though.

 

Len dreaded the day Lisa decided to have kids with Roscoe.

 

But it didn´t stop.

Mick once brought in a boy who looked like something the cat dragged in. His  
name was Axel, he was an annoying punk and welcomed into the family  
instantly.

 

Piper brought in a girl he knew from the shelters, a little thing called Lashawn. Len couldn´t say no.

 

And when Lisa announced she was pregnant he swore he had just had a heart-attack or a brain aneurysm or both.

"Why do we need kids of our own when we have so many hanging around? Dammit, this is not a daycare!"

But really, it was.


	62. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James haunts Piper.

He wasn´t exactly beating down the door.

He wasn´t really knocking.

Like a kitten, he timidly scratched at the door.

"Piper, please," he whispered, "please, let me in."

Piper was tired, so tired. Maybe he´d go away.

"Please, I´m so alone. Don´t leave me here."

He´d just sleep, and in the morning, he would be gone, as usual.

Piper´s eyelids felt like lead, he felt the cobwebs of sleep crawl into his mind.

"Hartley, help me," he said. Piper couldn´t sleep.

Not when his dead friend scratched at the door and wanted in.  
Not when a ghost whispered his name every night, not when the sould of a dead man  
tormented him.

He was just so tired.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hartley, please, help me."


	63. Epic Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Piper meet Ted and Booster. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

After the Rogues thought they were far enough away from Gorilla Grodd  
and the sentient music note that had pummeled him, they looked at each  
other, nodded and silently agreed never to speak of this again. While  
the others took off, Piper slung his arm around James´ shoulders and  
reminded him through a series of truly awful food puns that James had  
promised to treat him to lunch. James grinned, returned the gesture and  
began to more or less drag Piper away northwards to downtown Keystone  
City. They stopped in a menswear store and stole some clothes, Piper´s  
sonic hypnosis proving once again to be an invaluable asset. As they  
changed - Piper into a dark suit with a green shirt and James into  
something that one, Piper was certain they didn´t even sell in this  
store and two, should never be worn together as one outfit - the clerks  
re-enacted one of Piper´s favorite Monty Python sketches and ended up  
standing in a waste paper basket and singing. They left the store with  
new clothes on their back, their costumes in store bags and several  
wallets filled with cash from the register.  
"I´m telling you, Pipes,  
the best hamburgers this side of the Atlantic. Juicy meat, spicy sauce  
and the buns exactly toasted right. And the milkshakes, god, their  
milkshakes!"  
"Stop it, you´re making me even hungier."  
"It´s your fault if you keep getting so wrapped up in your work that you forget to  
eat. And look what it brought you this time - a giant note that loves  
you. I don´t think I could have dreamed of something like this if I  
tried!"  
"It was an honest mistake, really."  
Yeah, sure it was," James said, not even bothering to pretend like he was honest.  
"Can we please not talk about it anymore? I´m probably going to have nightmares as it is."  
"Alright. Hamburgers?"  
"God yes."  
They entered the little diner, the woman behind the counter smiled and  
nodded at James, and James led Piper to a booth in the corner. The diner  
looked old-fashioned, but it was bright and had a very comfortable  
atmosphere. Piper read through the menu and it seemed pretty standard so  
far. The waitress came and judging by her looks, she could only be  
either the first woman´s daughter or very young sister.  
"What will you have, sweetheart?" she asked and gave Piper a blinding smile.  
"Molly, what am I? Chopped liver?" James pouted. Of course, Piper thought, take  
the spotlight away from James and the suave conman becomes a whiny  
toddler.  
"My mom warned me about men like you, dearie. I think my dad was one of them. So, no, thank you."  
"And you think he´d be the better choice?"  
"A girl can dream, can´t she?"  
Piper blushed and coughed embarrassedly.  
"Don´t worry, honey, my bark´s worse than my bite. Although, don´t you look just yummy?"  
"I´m spoken for, Miss ...Molly, was it? So,uh....thanks for the compliment, but uh...no."  
"What a pity," she sighed in mock-fashion, "the usual for my jolly friend and what will you have?"  
"Barbecue burger with extra lettuce, no onions please and a diet coke...please."  
"Alright, sugar."  
"You´re just going to assume that you know what I want then?"  
"Flynn, you always have the same: special burger with lots of cheese, medium  
fries and the largest milkshake we have with one of the little umbrellas  
on top."  
"I could have changed my mind, you know."  
"Did you?"  
James sighed. "No."  
Molly grinned. "Be right back." She walked away, James leaned a bit out of  
his seat to watch her leave until his view was blocked by another patron  
who had had the same idea.  
"Flynn?" Piper asked.  
"Errol Flynn. Have to keep up my cover."  
"Don´t you usually go for aliases with J?"  
"Yes, but you eventually run out of names: every second place in Keystone  
knows me as Jimmy, Jake, Joseph, Joe, Joey, and one even as James Jonah  
Jameson Jr. I wanted something new. You´re one to talk, Henry. Harry.  
Horst from Sweden."  
"God, you´re never going to let me live down that one, huh?"  
"No," James replied cheerfully, "but tell me, are you in a new relationship or did you just use that to deflect her advances?"  
"I guess I´m half in a relationship."  
"Half?"  
"The sentient music note seems to think that I am...and I don´t."  
James laughed.  
Molly returned after a short while with their food and a smile for Piper.  
James started on his fries immediately and Piper took his first bite.  
"Oh my god, this is delicious! This is the best hamburger I´ve ever had.  
And my family´s loaded, we have a five-star cook at home. Awesome!"  
"Told you," James said and removed the little umbrella from his milkshake. To  
his utter joy, it was functional and kept opening and closing it.  
The meal was almost perfect, there was just a little thing missing. Piper  
reached for the condiment tray and grabbed the ketchup bottle. Juding  
from the weight it was empty, but he tried nontheless. It was empty.

Piper turned around in his seat to the next booth. Two men were sitting  
there, one was talking very fast and gesticulating wildly with his arms.  
Since that man was closest to him, Piper tapped him on the shoulder.  
"Excuse me, could I borrow your ketchup?" he asked. The man stopped  
talking, then stopped gesticulating a few seconds later and grinned  
friendly. "Here you go," he said and reached for the bottle. His body  
was now sideways in his seat and due to Piper having changed his  
position as well, the second man in the booth had a straight line of  
vision to James who was stealing from Piper´s plate.  
"You!" the man thundered and leapt over the table towards James. Piper  
was shocked for a moment but his instincts kicked in and threw his arms  
around the man´s chest while his friend grabbed his legs.  
While 50% of his brain wondered what was going on, 40% thought "What did you do  
this time, James?", and 10% noticed how firm and just perfect the man´s body  
was.  
"Calm down!" the man hanging onto the legs of Golden Adonis -  
Piper could call him what he wanted in his head - said and climbed up  
his friend like he was some sort of weird living ladder - a very sexy  
ladder nontheless.  
James had retreated to the other side of the booth, but he wasn´t afraid or shocked, he was highly amused.  
"Look who we have here - the shiny moron!"  
Piper was starting to lose his grip on Golden Adonis who seemed adamant to attempt to strangle James.  
"For god´s sake, what have you done, James?"  
"He threw an anvil at me!"  
Wait, what now? Even if James had the power to throw anvils - which he  
decidely had not until they were made of very convincing papermaché - he  
wouldn´t just throw them around. Somebody could have gotten hurt.  
Golden Adonis freed himself and lunged over the table only for James to duck  
under the table and resurface on Piper´s side of the booth, sandwiched  
between the friend of Golden Adonis and Piper himself. Oh, this was  
getting ridiculous. "Who the hell are you people?" Piper demanded.  
"That is Booster Gold and that appears to be the Blue Beetle," James said  
nonchalantly, grinning at the person he deemed to be a superhero. Blue  
Beetle slid away from him over the Booster Gold´s side of the booth and  
held his friend back by placing a hand on his chest.  
"No, we´re not," he said.  
"Please, don´t insult my intelligence. I recognize that shiny smile from a dozen  
commercials - by the way, your cereal sucks ass - and from today  
morning. And you, my insectoid friend, have the right height and build  
for the Blue Beetle, plus the fact that you hang out with that moron  
over there and your body language just reeks of scientist. Couple that  
with the moves you just pulled, your facial structure and your voice,  
you have to be the Blue Beetle."  
"I don´t think that that proves anything."  
James grinned and looked vaguely dangerous. "If you weren´t the Blue Beetle,  
then you really shouldn´t be speaking of transporters to the Justice  
League International headquarters in a diner in Keystone, now, should  
you?"  
Piper took a first good look at Blue Beetle: dark red hair, a  
bit on the short side, and now that James had mentioned it, that face  
was familiar. As for Golden Adonis - Booster - Piper mentally slapped  
himself for not noticing earlier. While he didn´t buy any of the  
products the superhero advertised he had spent quite some time looking  
at posters of him. Such fantastic hair should be a crime, really.  
"Can we solve the dilemma as adults?" Piper asked.  
"He started it!" Booster Gold yelled and pointed at James who looked like  
the cat that had eaten the canary and a dozen of his canary friends.  
Piper began to suspect that this was going to be a rather long day. And  
he´d thought that James was immature.  
"How about we start from the beginning and hear both sides of the story?" Blue Beetle suggested.  
"Deal," James said and reached over the table to snatch back his milkshake.  
"I was in Keystone, patroling, when I saw this suspicious individual  
running through the air; he wore the Trickster costume and he was  
carrying a bag that said 'loot' on it. I confronted him, he denied all  
accusations, threw an anvil at me and then fled the scene before I could  
pursue him. He is a dangerous criminal with no regard for safety and  
lives of others."  
"Please, that´s just your bruised ego talking."  
"No, it´s not!"  
"Yes, it is. Besides, you´re not telling the truth, blondie. Let me tell  
you how it really was: I was out, taking a stroll through the city. I  
wore the costume and carried the bag because - although I´m mostly  
retired - I still like to interact with superpowered folk. But  
interaction with villains gets you into trouble, so I was in the mood  
for conversation with a hero. That´s why the loot bag: it did attract  
your attention. Of course there was no stolen money or gems inside. This  
excuse for a hero continued to accuse me of a crime I didn´t commit,  
refused to listen to reason and then demanded that I hand over the bag. I  
asked him repeatedly if he was sure. After he said yes, I complied and  
handed over the bag. Said bag contained an anvil and Buster there fell  
through the air like a stone. Clearly that´s not my fault."  
Piper began to laugh uncontrollably and even te Blue Beetle had to bite back a grin.  
"What?"  
Booster Gold asked irritatedly. It was not enough that a supervillain  
and his probably-also-supervillain friend made fun of him, now his best  
buddy started to laugh.  
"You looney-tooned him! I can´t believe it!" the Blue Beetle exclaimed, shoulders shaking with barely surpressed amusement.  
"Please tell me the anvil said 'ACME', please," Piper managed to say between bouts of laughter.  
"You know me, of course it did." For some reason that made everyone seemed  
to laugh even harder. Booster was hurt: he was the one who was unjustly  
assaulted, who had tumbled out of the sky because of a supervillain and  
now Ted thought that was funny!  
"I´m sorry, Booster, I´m not laughing at you, I´m not."  
"You sure as hell aren´t laughing with me," Booster said sullenly and pouted.  
"It´s a culture thing, buddy."  
"Like that schadenfreude thing? But I thought I got that one!"  
"No, you did...the trick the...uh, Trickster played on you is a television  
classic, you know, from the cartoon with the bunny, and the duck and the  
coyote chasing the roadrunner?"  
"And that makes it funny?"  
"Sorry, but yes."  
"He still made me almost fall to my death!"  
"Please," the Trickster interjected, "you can fly and you have a superpowered  
suit and tech from the future. There was zero chance you´d go splat on  
the pavement."  
Maybe there had been, but it still wasn´t funny. And did he have to look so smug about it?  
"I think we can solve this easily: James, you apologize for tricking the nice hero into taking the bag with the anvil,"  
"but," the Trickster began to say but his friend just continued to talk and raised his volume,  
"which  
you took with you on purpose and manipulated him into demanding it  
because he is a hero, likely to do that and you wanted to get back at  
him for his cereal for ages," he took a deep breath, "and you Mr Gold,  
apologize to my friend for trying to assault him just now."  
"I will not!" Booster said. Clearly, he´d been right!  
"Oh, but I so wanted to be the bigger man and apologize so profoundly for  
having manipulated your tiny brain into doing precisely what I wanted."  
"No, no, I´m going to be the bigger man. Sorry for trying to strangle you over dinner. There!" he said triumphantly.  
Ted smiled at him and patted his shoulder as if to say "Good job, I´m proud, buddy".  
"So, since neither of us really did anything, can we just eat in peace and part ways afterwards?" Trickster´s friend suggested.  
Well, the hamburgers here were in fact delicious.  
"Okay. And, no one speaks of this again, okay?" Ted asked.  
Both the Trickster and his friend nodded.

Booster Gold and the Blue Beetle left their booth, James slid back to his seat and continued to much on his fries.  
Really, what were the odds of running into two superheroes in a diner?  
Both  
of them continuously tried to look at him inconspicuously through their  
dinner, but failed. He saw them, winked and grinned. They left first.  
No one had noticed that he hadn´t, in fact, apologized at all.


	64. This could use a little more SONIC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sultan of Sound may have a little problem there

"Piper, I think it´s time for an intervention. You can´t keep doing this."  
"Intervention? I´m not on drugs! Hell, I don´t even drink alcohol that much."  
"No one is talking about drugs, I´m talking about your behavior!"  
"If that is revenge for the time I didn´t want to go pony-riding with you-"  
"Thi is not about pony-riding! I´m talking about your gadgets, it´s getting out of control."  
"Said the man with the exploding rubber chicken."  
"Rubber chicken are part of my schtick! Gag items, jokes, toys, that´s what I do. You don´t see me building a bazooka."  
"I thought you like the sonic guns!"  
"I do, but I´m not talking about the guns."  
"I´m not following you."  
"You sonic-ify everything. What about your sonic mug? Your sonic toaster? Your sonic hairdryer?"  
"The  
mug keeps my coffee warm, the toaster works faster and the hairdryer  
now has a setting between light breeze and hurricane; I´ve improved  
them."  
"So, what is the purpose of the sonic usb drive? The sonic shelf? The sonic Sonic toy?"  
"Um...well, those are..."  
"Not to mention the sonic garden hose, the sonic seat belt and the sonic pillow. What´s next, a sonic screwdriver?"  
"That actually sounds like a great idea!"  
"No,  
Piper, stop! You are taking a break from tinkering with your gadgets.  
You need to leave your workroom, breathe the air....take a shower first,  
get out, feel the sun on your skin!"  
"Maybe you are right, I suppose I could use a break."  
"Great! Get showered, shave, change and I´ll see you in the car in half an hour."  
"Where are we going?"  
"Somwehere with adventure, with sunlight and warmth and wind on our faces!"  
"...you are going to take me pony-riding with you, aren´t you?"  
"Yes, now get going."


	65. One man's trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 90s.   
> Just...the 90s.

Piper was having a nice day. James - not boyfriend-James who was on a  
company retreat so that the employees could work on their synergy or  
some economist bs - had dragged him out of his workshop to show him an  
enormous flea market. The weather was great, James had convinced him to  
try out a new ice cream place and that had been a great idea. Piper  
purchased a few records and an old walkman, James had first bought a  
little handcart-thing and then he had started: nostalgic board games,  
golden fabric, a blue teapot and water guns.  
And then: "Piper! Piper! Come look! You´ve got to see this!"  
Piper  
sighed. He was somehow glad that he´d probably never have kids; how  
would he ever able to handle a kid if he was overwhelmed by one only  
slightly immature adult?  
James shoved a fluffy something at him. "Isn´t it awesome?"  
"Um...what the hell is that?"  
That thing chirped.  
Oh go.  
"A furby? Really, James?"  
"No, of course not, Piper."  
James grinned.  
"A dozen Furbies!"


	66. Boys and girls of every age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare before christmas AU

"Have you heard? Jack has gone missing!" the Jester said. His cousin,  
the clown that sometimes had no face, had told him after he´d heard it  
from the vampires who had heard it from the mayor´s announcement. He  
bounced in the air, stripes of pale gold and midnight blue seeming to  
dance. His friend, the Piper, put the flute down from his lips and the  
rats seemed disappointed.  
"The Pumpkin King has gone?"  
"Vanished! Evaporated! Like widow´s tears on a fresh grave!"  
"That´s impossible"  
"But true nontheless! The entire town is out searching for him, are you coming?"  
"Of course! I´ll send my rats on it."  
The Piper raised his flute again and a soft, sad melody trailed like fog  
over the graveyard. The rats´eyes glowed green and the little rodents  
swarmed over the place like a moving, crawling carpet.  
"Has the pumpkin patch been searched yet?"  
"It´s been assigned. I was sent to check out the Wailing Woods and I could use help."  
The Piper grinned, or at least the Jester felt like he did. The shadows  
under the hood always hid the Piper´s face, but the Jester had a talent  
for knowing how people felt regardless of their appearance.  
"How did you find me?"  
"The band told me where you were. And you are the expert on the flora there, so-" he trailed off, his voice an invitation.  
"You know I can never resist you."  
"I know," the Jester replied and grinned. His teeth shone in the moonlight.  
He held out his hand and the Piper gripped it tight and rose from his spot.  
They walked side by side to the Wailing Woods, the Jester always dancing  
lightly in the air, as if he was walking on a beam of moonlight.  
They did not find the Pumpkin King; Jack Skellington had gone to and  
returned from Christmas Land, had initiated a christmas frenzy and then  
defeated Oogie Boogie.  
Meanwhile, the Jester and the Piper got lost  
in the woods, had an adventure in the Village of St Patrick, got  
roaringly drunk and returned to Halloween Town roughly one year later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up drawing the characters myself  
> http://th07.deviantart.net/fs70/300W/i/2011/286/b/1/piper_in_halloween_town_by_rabenstolz-d4cpbbq.jpg
> 
> http://rabenstolz.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d4cpbqu


	67. Original Prankster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Axel meets the original

Life is one great rush, one adventure caused by alcohol, one big high.  
Life is fast, life is blurry and life is speeding up still.

Axel only catches a breath for another swig, for another pill or to raise  
the volume until the music booming out of his headphones is almost  
deafening. It´s crime after crime now, one robbery after the next, one  
bomb after the next, one explosion after the next. And Axel can´t stop,  
he can only go harder, go faster.  
He´s losing it, he´s too fast, too violent and too brutal.  
After one heist that was just another colorful explosion for him, Mirror  
Master provides an escape, Axel runs towards the mirror, he smells the  
smoke in his clothes, he hears the beat of the music, he sees his  
soot-stained gloves and he feels the grin threatening to tear his face  
apart.  
He looks into the mirror and he sees James staring back. The  
original prankster, the first Trickster (and according to many, the  
best) like he used to be, bright and proud and so much larger than life.  
The world just stops for a second there.

Maybe I overdid it,  
maybe that was too much, maybe I shouldn´t have taken that pill,  
shouldn´t have smoked that, shouldn´t have drank that, shouldn´t  
have....shouldn´t have done this at all.

Axel never met the Trickster in person, not the real one. He met an FBI agent playing  
dress-up, never the magical creature the Rogues talk about fondly with a  
hint of sadness in the quiet of the night. Now Axel sees what they  
meant; he had never gotten it. He gets it now, he understands.  
He sees the Trickster for the first time, and the last.  
Then, through the music blasting, through Axel´s heart beating so painfully  
loud, Axel can hear him. It sounds a bit melodical, every word spoken  
with such care and deliberation, but always in flow, always moving,  
always like a song.  
"Having fun, Axel? Having fun running around as the Trickster? Yeah?"  
It´s like a melody he once knew but had forgotten, like that one perfect  
afternoon in summer when you were a kid, where you can barely remember  
what you did, but just thinking about this day brings you feelings of  
content and joy. But then, it changes. Every word is a weapon, is a  
blade cutting into his skin and goes deeper.  
"We both know that the fun´s over. There is no joy in what you do." The Trickster´s face seems  
to change, it´s like a movement you catch at the edge of your vision,  
but which you never really see. It seems as if the Trickster is smiling,  
but he isn´t. He´s not funny, he´s frightening.  
"And that will one day catch up to you. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after that, maybe  
none of these days. Maybe next week or next month. But it´s coming for  
you. I don´t really want to be in your shoes right now. And-" his grin  
gets creepier still, "since I´m dead right now, that´s saying  
something."  
Axel wants to breathe, but he can´t. He can´t move.  
"I wonder what you´ll do now: will you stop, will you run, will you hide? I  
know what the smartest option is, but then, you´re not smart. And you  
can´t run forever, you can´t hide forever and you can´t stop, not even  
for a single day. Your time is almost up. I don´t think we will see each  
other again. I´d wish you good luck if that would change anything."  
He finally stops smiling.  
"I lied. I would not. Tick tock, little prankster, time is running out."  
Then the world begins to turn, then Axel can breathe, then there´s noise,  
and screams and Axel feels sick to his stomach. He falls out of the air  
and Captain Cold has to drag him to the safehouse.  
Should he run?  
Should he hide?  
Can he stop?  
He turns his head and for a split-second, the Trickster´s grin appears in  
the stolen TV. Then everything turns black and it will be a long time  
before he can open his eyes again.


	68. Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the tights, people often forget that James is actually a genius

To others, James was silly, air-headed and immature. He played pranks,  
annoyed people for no reason and wore that big smile all the time. He  
was egoistical, greedy and stubborn.  
For superheroes, he was a nuisance; bothersome, but neither dangerous nor interesting enough to warrant real attention.

Wally knew better. James was annoying and sadly, smart. He often pretended to  
be stupid, pretended to be more harmless than he was, but Wally had  
learned years ago that that was not the case. Of all the Rogues, James  
seemed to be the least of all evils, but that was only because he chose  
to.  
Wally, in rare moments of contemplation, was frightened by what  
James was able to do. But thankfully, Piper was a good influence. James  
was still annoying and childish, but he was also a lot of fun and his  
pranks were hilarious when you weren´t the target.  
Still, sometimes Wally had these moments.

James was floating in the air above their couch, and entertaining the kids with his game of "I´m better than you at anything".  
He had just beaten Iris again at solving a Rubik´s cube. And she had used  
her superspeed. Wally prudently didn´t challenge James.  
Iris scrambled two cubes, handed one to James and then tried to solve hers,  
trying out one hundred moves a second. James just looked at the cube for  
one moment, placed his fingertips at the squares and then - move, move,  
move - the cube was solved.  
"No fair! Dad, Uncle James is cheating!"  
Oh no - Wally knew. James hadn´t cheated. James grinned.  
"Rematch?"  
"You´re on, Uncle James."

Wally  
went to the kitchen where Linda was chatting with Piper. He embraced  
her from behind. "Piper, your worse half is scaring me."  
"Is he still doing that Rubik´s cube thing?"  
"Yes, for the 27th time now. He always wins!"  
"He is clever."  
"He didn´t used to be scary-clever."  
"Oh, but he was. He just doesn´t play dumb in front of you anymore. It´s a sort of compliment, really."  
"If that is a compliment, I don´t want to know what he considers punishment."  
Piper grinned, and Wally was reminded of the fact that Piper had been a supervillain a long time ago.  
"No, you don´t."


	69. Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James forces Piper into participating in a christmas charity action

Piper wondered often just exactly why he was friends with JJ. The man  
was loud, irresponsible, annoying and childish. But then, he was funny,  
generous and always seemed to know when something was wrong with Piper.  
But the latter facts didn´t stop the first from being true.  
"Please, Piper," JJ said, eyes looking directly into Piper´s and god, even his lower lip was wobbling.  
"JJ, I said 'no'! That is undignified!"  
"But,"  
"No 'but'!There are some things even I won´t do in the name of charity. How...can´t I just write you a check?"  
"Piper..."  
JJ said softly, blue eyes staring into Piper´s very soul, moving  
closer, hands grasping Piper´s, a gentle pressure, "please"  
And just like that Piper´s defenses broke down and he agreed to JJ´s silly little charity gig.  
He supported the cause - giving christmas presents to orphans - and would  
of course help out if that didn´t include dressing up in an elf costume.  
Next to him, JJ beamed at a little girl and handed her a brightly wrapped present. "Merry christmas!"  
"Thank you Mr Elf!" she said and threw her tiny arms around his neck.  
This went on for hours, the presents out of the back of the sleigh never  
seemed to get less and Piper was getting into the mood.  
"See? I knew you´d warm up. I didn´t know why you were so fussy about it in the  
first place, you were running around in tights and fairy boots before  
and that never bothered you then."  
"I grew up."  
"Keep telling yourself that."  
It was getting late and soon it was dark.  
"Thanks for convincing me, JJ, that really was ...you know, a good thing."  
"You know me, literally don´t know the meaning of surrender."  
The other charity workers, all dressed als elves, a snowman, reindeers and even Santa Claus, climbed down from the sleigh.  
Then Santa came over to JJ and told him firmly that they were even now and JJ better mention this to no one else.  
Piper knew that voice.  
"Len?"  
"What the - oh damn, Piper?"  
Santa took off his beard and it was Len´s grumpy face staring out underneath  
the red cap. "How did he get to convince you to join this gig?"  
"Appealing to my social consciousness," Piper replied, fully knowing that that was  
at least a partial lie, "why did you play Santa?"  
"Blackmail."  
"Blackmail,"  
chimed in the other workers. They were peeling out of their costumes  
and Piper recognized the Rogues, in all their sweaty, christmassy glory.

"Merry christmas!" JJ said and threw his arms around Piper´s and Len´s shoulders. "Wasn´t that fun?"


	70. Under the influence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is a bad, bad influence

James was the worst influence possible. And he was also the best worst influence ever.

Piper knew when his ideas were stupid and reckless.  
He had known that drawing a moustache on the statue of the founder of Keystone was a bad idea.  
He had known that crashing a high society ball and forcing the band to play heave metal music was stupid.  
He had known that sneaking into the zoo at midnight had been idiotic.

Butwhenever James looked at him, a twinkle in his eyes, a challenge in his  
eyes and said the magical words "We should do it. We could have lots of  
fun, you know. If you know what I mean," a heavy pause, "and I think  
you do," he always trailed off and then left, just waiting for Piper to  
catch up.

Piper´s 18-year old brain had always interpreted the  
signals wrong, and he was smart enough to know that, but nevertheless,  
he kept coming.


	71. Travel Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues on a plane

It´s going to be easy. Like stealing candy from a baby....from a  
sleeping baby even! Piece of cake. Harmless. And the payoff is amazing.  
Probably 3 million each.  
Yes, riiiiight. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Roscoe hated himself. Actually, he hated the others, especially Sam. Well, he  
really hated Len the most, but at least he was used to Len being a  
complete dick. Sam, however, had been somewhat pleasant. Not as annoying  
as the Trickster, not as obnoxious as Boomerang and certainly not as  
len-ish as Len.  
But he had completely destroyed every positive  
emotion Roscoe had felt towards him. That bank job had seemed too good  
to be true, so of course it was: it was a money laundering scam from  
Gotham, and Scarecrow and the Hatter had been involved.  
So, after racing back to their hideout, the Rogues decided to invoke rule #27: if  
you don´t want to take the heat, get out of the kitchen. Which led to  
them being on a plane headed for L.A.. Roscoe hated flying business  
class. He hated other passengers. And he definetely, definetely hated  
the Rogues.  
Trickster had gotten involved in a prank war between two  
brothers in the aisle behind him somehow; Piper kept fiddling with his  
headphones and would not stop or sit still for two minutes; Digger had  
gotten drunk, fallen asleep, and now snored. That was their usual  
behavior, Roscoe still didn´t care for it, but he had built up a certain  
tolerance, like one did by injecting oneself with non-lethal doses of  
poison. Mark had gotten himself a Mark Twain analogy with essays by  
literature professors and experts on Twain and he kept pointing out  
flaws, calling some guy a heathen and always poked Roscoe, shoved the  
book under his noise, pointed at some sentence and said: "Have you seen  
this? Unbelievable!" Roscoe had already told him that - while he did  
encourage the Rogues to read more - he didn´t care for Twain.  
Shakespeare was the only author of value. Compared to the bard, Twain  
was a disease-ridden impoverished, illiterate minstrel. Mark had  
ignored, as usual, any bad word said against Twain.  
Len, Mick, and Roy had started up a poker game and were cheating unsuspecting  
passengers. Roscoe tried to relax, closed his eyes and thought of Lisa  
who had remained home. Maybe he should have suspected something when he  
brought up the impromptu vacation and she had laughed in his face.  
Apparently, Rogues and trips someplace didn´t mix well.

Not even five minutes later, Len and Mick had gotten into a fight again  
about a model they both adored, Roy had felt insulted by their poker  
partner, Piper had rigged the sound system and the board movie - Pretty  
Woman - was now accompanied by the soundtrack of AC/DC, Mark had found  
out that one of the scholars from his book was on the plane and had  
started a shouting match, and James had made the prank war escalate and  
it started to engulf the aisles behind them now.  
Roscoe sighed.  
It couldn´t get any worse.  
At least he felt some sense of smug satisfaction when he thought of Sam,  
whom they had stuffed into a big suitcase and who was traveling in the  
luggage compartment.

Later, they would find out that the luggage for this flight had accidentally been brought on the machine to Switzerland.  
Roscoe smiled. Yes, "accidentally".


	72. Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fairytale Time with Trickster

"Once upon a time, a little boy was born. The day of his birth was a  
golden sunday, blessed by the gods, old and new. For, you see, the  
children of golden sundays are special. They see what everyone  
overlooks, they hear what nobody wants to hear and they say what  
everyone else is afraid of saying. And this little boy, he grew up. He  
traveled, met many people and more, until one day, he met the devil and  
stole three of his hairs."  
"Devil´s hair?" one of the girls asked and the Piper nodded.  
"Three hairs, they looked like they were made from gold. And, each one of these hairs gives you power. One wish for one hair."  
"What did the boy do with them?" a boy asked.  
"I don´t know. The story isn´t finished yet; maybe he still has all of  
them. Some say he traded them for fame, fortune and the most beautiful  
woman in the land. Some say he wished for the devil´s place. Others  
claim that he wished for 100 barrels of wine."  
"And what do you think?" a voice from the back asked. It belonged to a young man, with  
golden hair, blue eyes and a small child on his lap.  
"I think he would be too smart to trust anything the devil said."  
Then the Piper started to play on his flute, the children danced and sang and laughed.  
When he had finished, the young man walked up to where the Piper sat and  
spoke: "Settle down, kids. That was a nice story the Piper just told  
you, but I know a better one. It has wonders, magic and the quaintest of  
all heroes."  
"I want to hear the story!" a girl said and soon the other children chimed in. "Tell us! Tell us the story!"  
"Alright then. Once upon a time, there was a little town in a far away land, called Hamelin."


	73. All the world's a stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper sucks at acting

"Okay, Piper, listen carefully, I´ll only say this once: the key is  
calm. Perfect, utter calm. No worries, no nervousness, no twitching,  
looking around or whistling. Don´t be casual, be cool."  
"Please, James, I know how to do this, I´ve lived this life." Piper patted James´  
shoulder. James was getting too worked up about this. Honestly, it was  
just a little undercover mission to check out if the new exhibition  
about India was worth the trouble of stealing it. Piper could do this,  
he could act like a rich art patron.  
James grabbed Piper´s hand. "No,  
you haven´t lived it. You´ve seen it, you laughed at it, you mocked it.  
That´s not living, and it´s not going to fool anyone."  
"As if you have lived that life! Didn´t you grow up in a circus? Did your mother  
drag you to museum openings in a tuxedo that costs more than 1000  
dollars? Leave me be, James, I´ll be fine."  
James shook his head gently. "You don´t get it. But fine, if you don´t want to listen, if you  
choose to ignore me, then don´t blame me when it goes up in flames."  
Piper watched James´ retreating form. He was making such a big deal out of it. But Piper could do this, it would be easy.

The day of the opening came and Piper´s confidence went away.  
He was standing in a crowd of expensive dresses, ringing laughter and  
champagne flutes. He saw them looking and suddenly felt as if he was in  
shark-infested waters, and his discomfort was blood. They saw him, saw  
through him. "You don´t belong," their stares said, "Silly pretender,"  
their smiles spelled and a handshake meant that "We´re on to you."  
He may have looked like one of them, may have spoken the same words, but he didn´t speak their language. Piper wanted to run.  
"Oh honey, there you are!", a warm hand was at the small of his back and as he turned his head he saw a dazzling smile.  
James?  
"I´m so sorry, I hope Henry didn´t bore you, Mrs Frederickson. He talks  
miles a minute about his music. I swear, he´s going to be the next big  
thing, he´s magic with his fingers."  
Mr Frederickson chuckled at  
that, Mrs Frederickson glanced over Hartley again. Now the unease made  
sense, the not-fitting in, and the well-tailored suit that he would  
never buy himself: he was the +1 of this charming young man, a  
hopelessly infatuated, pennyless musician who was so utterly in love  
with that grinning shark; he was a fool.  
Hartley managed a shaky smile and blushed a little as James´ hand drew little circles on his back.  
"You´re too kind, I´m nothing, I just love music."  
The stares went on, they still said the same, but instead of hostility,  
their gazes held arrogance and pity. "Poor fool, you are probably just  
being used and you´re too stupid to notice it."  
James excused them and they walked over to the next piece of art, his arm still around Piper.  
"I tried to warn you, Piper. But I´m here, we´ll be fine. Just keep calm and carry on, okay?"  
Piper nodded and moved a bit closer into James´ personal space.  
He may not fool anyone into believing that he was a rich art patron, but  
he could pull off a clueless musician who was in love and not loved in  
return.  
Because that, wasn´t an act at all.


	74. The way to a man's heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James cooks

James had never thought of himself as a good cook or a gourmet, but  
compared to the other Rogues he was worth five stars and more.  
But to each his own, he never really cared about what others ate but he had  
to admit that he like if he got compliments about his food.  
As the years went on and most of the Rogues had died, and only left Piper, Roy  
and him. Roy didn´t return his calls - he had his reasons, probably -  
and Piper became a hero. James was good at socializing, he could get  
himself new friends but he didn´t particularly want to. But then, he  
didn´t want to be alone either.  
On one day, he stopped by at Piper´s  
place, bottle of Merlot in one hand and dinner in the other. Piper had  
gotten that little smile that was a bit mischievous and a bit sad. "Come  
in," he had said.  
James had made himself at home within minutes. He  
went to the kitchen and couldn´t believe it. Take-out cartons  
everywhere, in various stages of decomposition, used coffee mugs and  
bottles upon bottles of ice tea.  
"How can you live like this?" he asked. Piper shrugged.  
"I don´t really know how to cook and I spent so much time with projects  
for Wally that I haven´t had time or energy to really do anything  
anyway. It´s fine, really."  
James, of course, was having none of that. He cleaned up the kitchen, threw out all the cartons and wrote a shopping list.  
"Tonight, you´re going to have dinner with me - nice, cooked, healthy food - and  
tomorrow we´re going grocery shopping. You´re living worse than a  
college student!"  
Piper smiled that smile again. "You don´t have to do that, James."  
"But maybe I want to. I have nothing better to do, you need the help and the  
next time I see your friend Wally he will get a talk he won´t ever  
forget about how friendship works."  
"He means well."  
"That doesn´t stop him from being an idiot. How many hours do you spend on your  
computer, doing research for him or hacking things?"  
"Not many, really."  
"Piper..."  
"Alright, maybe I could do with less work. At this rate I´m going to need glasses in five years."  
"See? It´s settled. Now eat up, your dinner´s getting cold."  
Piper smiled again.  
"It´s really good, James."  
And that gave James a funny feeling, like warmth and content and pride all mixed into one.  
And then, James thought, that maybe Piper had been right. Maybe he really had  
to do this. He had to admit that helping Piper, that caring, made him  
feel better. How about that? It was a bit new to James, but he could get  
used to that. Maybe, he, too, needed a talk about how friendship really  
worked.  
But, sitting together on the couch, watching late night tv and making Piper laugh was a good start.


	75. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper has a cold, and James mocks him

A tremendous sneeze sounded through Piper´s apartment.  
The rats had already fled his bedroom and his crankiness. A sick Piper was not exactly a joy to be around.  
The door opened and a huge caterpillar waddled into the kitchen. The  
caterpillar was of course just Piper, wrapped in a huge blanket. He  
tried to keep his cocoon of warmth intact while making himself tea. But  
it wasn´t enough, he was cold. He sneezed again.  
There was a knock on his window. Probably a bird, or maybe a rat that had locked itself  
out. The knocking returned and this time in a rhythm.  
Piper turned his head and immediately took a step back. That was no bird!  
Then the fuzziness in his brain supplied the needed information.  
"James," he said exasperated and waddled over to the window.  
James was far too bright, far too cheerful and he was getting noisy.  
"Let me in," James said and made the corresponding gesture with his hand.  
Piper sighed and tried to ignore him.  
"You know that if you ignore me, I´ll just become worse instead of going away."  
"A guy can still dream, right?" Piper said and gave up. He doubted that James had heard him and opened the window.  
Like a colorblind Peter Pan, James entered Piper´s apartment, a bag slung over his back.  
"How´s my favorite Piper this fine morning?"  
"Please go away, James. Or be quiet."  
"Cranky which means sick. But nevermind, the magical mischief maker is here to make it all better!"  
James shoved Piper onto the counter and then opened the sack. He pulled out  
bright pink fuzzy slippers which he forced onto Piper´s feet, pressed a  
box with extra-soft tissues into Piper´s hands and infiltrated Piper´s  
blanket cocoon to slip a hot water bottle inside.  
"James," Piper began, not in the mood to deal with frankly anything right now.  
"Now, you sit there and stop feeling so bad, I´ll make you milk with honey  
and later, if you want it or not, there will be my nonna´s chicken soup  
for sick children. And if you´re good, I´ll even sing a lullaby and tuck  
you in."  
"Nothing I say is going to make you go away, is it?"  
"No," James said with a bright grin.

Piper went over to the couch while James puttered away in the kitchen, a  
glass with warm milk in his hands. It was really tasty; somehow  
everything tasted better when James made it. It was sort of nice to have  
someone to take care of you; Piper just might have needed that, not  
that he was ready to admit that out loud or anything. He couldn´t figure  
out though why James did this: sure, James was nice if he wanted to be,  
but he was also fairly egotistical and usually had other things to do  
than to play nursemaid for Piper.  
That led Piper´s feverish brain to  
imagine James in a nurse outfit and suddenly his cheeks burned. Bad  
brain, stop thinking sexy thoughts about James! He startled when a  
steaming plate was put down in front of him.  
"Buon appetito!" James  
said and sat down next to Piper, pressing a spoon in his hand. It did  
smell delicious, as far as Piper could tell through his cold. And it was  
in fact delicious.  
Where in Hell did you learn to cook?" Piper had to ask.  
"One day, Iwanted to have my nonna´s chocolate cake and well, there was no one  
there to make it for me. So, I decided to do it myself and after a few  
tries, I got my cake. Then it just clicked and it occurred to me what I  
could do with cooking: pie for slinging into people´s faces, cotton  
candy, pumpkin pie, pasta, trick-donuts..."  
"I´m afraid to ask, but what are trick donuts?"  
"Youmake 12 donuts, fill 11 of them with something delicious like jam,  
chocolate or vanilla, aaaaaaand in the last one you put mustard."  
"You´re mean."  
"I know. Eat up."  
AsPiper ate his soup, James played absentmindedly with the rats and  
talked to Piper about his day, his plans for the future, the last  
episode of that hospital show he liked and somehow Piper forgot that he  
was sick. He was warm, comfortable and surrounded by things he loved:  
rats, music, hot blonde on his couch.....bad brain!  
Then it was night. Piper hadn´t noticed how time had gone by. James led him to his  
bedroom and, as promised, tucked him in. Piper was feeling like his old  
self again, so the next question was inevitable.  
"Where´s my lullaby?"  
James smiled softly. "There´s my Piper, where have you been all day?"  
"Suffocated by germs. Lullaby," he demanded.  
"Fine." James smoothed Piper´s blanket and sat on the bed.  
"Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur; happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr purr purr."  
Piper really liked James´ voice.  
"Goodnight James. Thanks for everything."  
"Goodnight, Piper," James said.  
Piper closed his eyes and slept.

He felt incredibly better next morning.  
He felt even better when he noticed that James hadn´t left the apartment and was making French toast in the kitchen.


	76. Ye olde renaissance faire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues and a ren fair

"This is inaccurate! Dye was expensive; no barmaid in the medieval ages could ever afford to wear that much purple!"  
"Roscoe, can you please shut up and enjoy the Ren Fair?" Sam said and shoved Roscoe.  
Roscoe, dressed as a monk, glared at him. "If none of the organizers cares about this fair, why should I?"  
"It´s fun!" James said and did a cartwheel, his jester´s outfit turning him into a golder blur.  
"It´s insulting to history!"  
The others sighed. Roscoe prided himself on being smart, but apparently he  
wasn´t smart enough to know that he shouldn´t expect historical accuracy  
from the Keystone City "Merry Gents and Wenches" Renaissance Group.  
"No matter what he thinks, I´m having a blast," Mick said. He was dressed  
as a king and held chicken drums in his hands. "I love the Ren Fair!"  
"You love the meat cooked on open fire," Roscoe said.  
"And the fire breathers!" Mick added and bit into one of his chicken drums.

"Tis a most pleasant outing!" Mark said, "I doth say that this a charming place."  
"Mark, would you please stop talking like this? You´re dressed as Shakespeare, isn´t that enough?"  
"Nay!"

"I hate to admit that you were right about anything, but that was a great  
idea, JJ - that beer is amazing! I´m gonna steal barrels of this stuff  
tonight!"  
"I´m glad you´re having fun, Digger."  
Digger emptied his tankard, looked at it disappointed and then made a beeline for the next tent.  
"Oh, fairest of all maidens, may I trouble you for a bit of your fine ale?"  
"Who knew," Sam begun, "somehow dressing like a duke actually makes Digger behave like one."

Sam himself felt great in his Robin Hood outfit and the huge false beard.  
There was even a tournament. He lost, but he looked closely at the winner and  
made a promise to himself to visit him that night and steal the trophy.

Len still didn´t know how they managed to talk him into wearing armor, but  
here he was: a walking tin can. It was hot, heavy, he couldn´t scratch  
himself, but he had acquired a group of women following him around,  
stroking the breast plate and making a few suggestions what they´d do to  
him after they got him out of the armor. He found that he didn´t mind  
it too much.

Piper was being followed by literally a horde of  
children. They were playing, dancing and begging him to play more songs.  
He pondered whether he should honor his namesake and start mind  
controling them so that they would leave him alone for five minutes, but  
decided against it. Being a minstrel in green was already pushing his  
cover, being a minstrel with hypnotized children may tip someone off.  
Although he was pretty sure no one could recognize him under that hat;  
the feather was enormous!  
"Having fun?" James asked.  
"Do you consider being stalked fun?"  
"Not particularly. How about I get these away from you for a while?"  
"You´d do that?"  
"That´s what flashy costumes and toys are for."  
He grinned and then started to do acrobatic tricks, diverting the  
children´s attention away from Piper. The children ooh'd and aaah'd with  
every of James´movements.  
Piper sat down next to Mick and Digger and ordered a flagon of mead.  
This afternoon was beginning to look a lot better with alcohol in him.

At least until Roscoe got thrown out for nitpicking, Len got thrown out  
for public indecency and Sam angered all the archers and ran away  
quickly, that the Rogues decided that it was probably enough.  
For this day anyway.


	77. The best lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is dating Piper. Nobody is buying it.

Starting a relationship with James was the best and the stupidest thing Piper had ever done, even more than the zoo incident.  
Best, because he loved James who was funny, smart and cared so much more than Piper would have ever thought possible.  
Stupidest, because announcing that not only he was gay, but that he had already  
"turned" another Rogue gay, was suicide by cold gun or boomerang,  
really. Not that you could actually turn people gay and much less James  
who had grown up in a carny and never bothered with limiting his  
sexuality to one gender in the first place.  
But still, Piper insisted on keeping it a secret. James would have been happy to rub it  
into everyone´s face that he was getting laid on a regular basis by a  
hot redhead, but Piper was the mature one in the relationship and told  
him not to. That led to make-out sessions in the hallway, in the attic,  
the car and one time a closet. James´ face had lit up like he had found a  
goldmine when he thought about all the jokes he could make.  
But still, it was nice, safe and, to be fair, it was making out with James, so it was fantastic.  
Until one day, they had sneaked into the bathroom and were about to take a shower together, when Roscoe knocked. Thrice.  
"Did you lock the door?" Piper whispered, and he was relieved when James nodded.  
"What now?" James asked.  
"Be still, he´ll go away."  
"I know you´re in there, I can hear you metabolizing oxygen and expelling carbon dioxide."  
"Yes, I´m still breathing, okay. Go away, Roscoe, I´m kind of in the middle of something."  
"You´re in the bathroom, Piper, don´t be a drama queen. I´m late for my date  
and this bathroom has the non-cracked mirror, so hurry up."  
"Oh no, we were first," James hissed.  
"Is there someone in there with you?" Roscoe asked.  
"Yes!" James shouted, "it´s me and we were about to have wild shower sex. Go away, Roscoe!"  
"Geez, I only wanted to fix my hair, no need to get touchy and claim nonsense."  
They heard retreating footsteps.  
"I don´t think he believed us," James said confused.  
"Who cares, he´s gone."

He hadn´t believed them. It turned out, no one believed them.  
Some did think that Piper might be gay, but James?  
"No, really, I´m sleeping with Piper."  
"Sure you do, James."  
"I´m serious!"  
"Yes, and pigs can fly."  
"Guys, this isn´t funny!"  
"It´s hilarious. Usually, your lies are better though."  
"Piper, come here and kiss me! They think I´m lying about our undying love!"  
"James, really, you don´t have to prov-mmmmmfffff."  
"See? There was tongue!"  
"I still don´t buy it."  
"Guys!"


	78. Pretty Bird

James was always so fascinating for Piper. He was like an exotic bird: bright, elegant and priceless.  
He strutted, he sang and he soared.  
Piper could never get tired of watching him fly, of hearing him sing.  
Sadly, the good things never last.  
Neither did James.  
At least, Piper´s last gift to James was something he would have really liked: a song among the stars.


	79. Tricksters on the loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James goes trick-or-treating with Billy

"Do you have your lantern?"  
"Yes, dad."  
"Emergency flashlight?"  
"Yes, dad."  
"Cellphone?"  
"Yes, dad."  
"Taser?"  
"Yes, dad."

"James! What the hell is going on?"  
James turned around and gave Piper a dazzling smile. "We´re just preparing to go trick or treating."  
"With a taser?"  
"Don´t worry, Piper, dad´s just being a little overprotective. I did turn down the t-bombs though."  
"Jams, this is not Gotham. Don´t you think we´re overreacting?"  
"As long as Billy is concerned, no."

Piper adjusted his rollerdisco outfit for the tenth time. Yes, it was cheesy;  
bright, glittering and with real skates, but if you couldn´t go  
overboard on Halloween, when could you?  
"Are you done? As soon as your trick-or-treating is over, I can go to the party Linda´s throwing."  
"We´ll be out in a minute. Thanks again for coming with us."  
"We drew straws, I lost. Don´t flatter yourself."

James and Billy finally exited the changing room.  
"You´re wearing bed sheets!"  
"So?"  
"I would have expected you to wear anything but this cheap costume."  
"You wound me, Piper, you haven´t seen the trick yet."  
"Trick?"  
James lifted his bedsheet to reveal another costume underneath that, a striped suit in blue, orange and white.  
"God, two costumes?"  
"Twice the candy."  
Piper sighed.  
Of course, things would never be easy with James around.


	80. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues have been told many lies in their life, and everyone of them has been told the worst of them

There are many kinds of lies in the world.

There are simple lies  
you tell to children; you tell them to preserve their worldview. Of  
course they'll come out eventually, but they don't hurt.  
"Santa brings presents."  
"That was the tooth fairy."  
"It's magic!"  
But kids learn that Santa is actually their dad with a fake beard; that the  
tooth fairy is just their mom; and that most of the magic is science,  
illusions and make-believe.

Then there are little white lies;  
you tell them to spare feelings, to make living for everyone easier.  
Those lies are small and seldom escalate.  
"Sorry for being late, I got caught in a traffic jam."  
"No, that dress makes you look gorgeous."  
"I'd love to hang out but I have to work overtime today."  
And, no matter if you overslept, if you don't care how that dress looks and  
if you just don't want to see anyone today; those lies are over in a  
heartbeat and no one ever thinks about them.

There are cruel lies; lies that meant to hurt; words that cut like steel and sting like poison.  
"You've been with this company for a long time and trust me, it really pains us to have to do this..."  
"You sicken me."  
"I never loved you."  
Those do damage; those tear wounds that sometimes just won't ever heal.  
But those are not the worst ones.

There are the lies we tell each other to give us hope. To make them keep  
going when everything's lost, to give them the power to do just one more  
step when they've already run out of breath and strength, to stop them  
from giving up.  
"You can do this!"  
"I believe that you will succeed."  
"Of course it will work."  
Those lies can work miracles. Whether it is the placebo effect, whether it is  
faith, sometimes they do wonders and then the lie comes true.  
But those aren't the worst ones.

There are lies are the ones you tell yourself.  
They can pull you up, pull you down, make you great, make you small: they change you.  
"I'm a loser."  
"I believe in me!"  
"I'm going to get better."  
Those aren't the worst lies.

There is one lie, the biggest, most terrifying lie of all. It never comes  
true, no matter what. And this is the lie we tell to our children, we  
tell to friends, to family, we tell it to comfort others, to give hope,  
to lend strength to those without strength, to give courage to the ones  
that are afraid, and finally, to ourselves.  
"Everything will be alright."

Len Snart, 9, wraps his thin arms around his sister.  
"Mommy will come back, you'll see. Everything will be alright."

Still shivering despite the anoraks, the blanket and the blazing fire in the  
fireplace, Mick stares into nothingness. His father puts one big hand on  
his shoulder. "Everything will be alright, son."

"Everything will be alright," is what Clyde Mardon says to his parents as he loads  
the last box into his car. He's starting his new job at the  
observatorium tomorrow. His parents worry about him, but he's confident.  
None of the three take notice of Mark who looks at the sky and scowls.

Sam understands only half of what is going on, but this crisis seems big.  
Too big for him. But they tell him that everything will be alright, he  
checks his mirrors one last time and then they leave. He won't be coming  
back.

Georgie wishes that he could read, but he's 4 and letters  
are still black smudges to him. If he could read, he'd understand why  
reading that letter made his mum so upset. He tugs at her skirt while  
she sits at the table, face buried in her arms. "Don't cry, mum,  
everything will be alright."

For other kids it would be perfectly  
fine, but not for Roscoe. He has an A- on a geography test, and his dad  
looks like he's going to explode from rage and disappointment. "We will  
get you a tutor, we will fix this. Everything will be alright again."  
But before Roscoe can protest that nothing has gone wrong, his father  
has already left.

Roy runs into his daddy´s workshop, proudly  
holding a picture in his chubby hands. "Daddy!" he calls and when his  
father looks down, he proudly presents his work. "I drew you, daddy!"  
Roy exclaims. His father takes one look at the picture and then a long,  
long look at Roy. Then he pulls up Roy into his lap, strokes over his  
hair and murmurs "Everything will be alright." Roy doesn't see why,  
though: for him, the picture looks fine. Even if his dad has green skin,  
red eyes and wears a purple suit, and all the colors clash horribly.

Even though he can't hear, he knows what is being said to him. Hartley is in  
a hospital bed, body still aching from the last experimental procedure  
to give him hearing. His head pounds furiously and he just wants to  
sleep.  
He can barely make out his mother's lips as she says the  
words. "Everything will be alright." He only wishes that he could  
believe her.

"Everything is going to be alright, just you wait.  
I'm going to fix this. This will all be over soon," says the Trickster  
and is grateful that Piper can't actually see his face from that angle.  
There are black circles under his eyes, dirt on his cheek and a grimace  
of despair on his face. He injects his voice with as much hope and  
strength he can fake. But it works. In the moonlight, hiding away in an  
empty warehouse in Gotham, on the run for a crime they didn't commit -  
although James sure blames himself for it - he can see that Piper  
relaxes and drifts off to sleep. James can't sleep though. He has to  
keep watch. He has to be strong, to be brave. He has to save Piper.  
Piper believes him, Piper bought the lie. James is a good liar; be they  
small, simple or even hurtful, people always believe his lies.  
Unfortunately, there is one person James can't lie to: himself.  
And so they keep on running, on strength that left James long ago, with  
determination he fakes, and with hope he lost months ago.  
"Everything will be alright."


	81. College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Justice AU where Piper is in college and James is bothering him

"Piper, come ooooooon!" whined JJ, and the sound of springs tightening  
and fabric rustling told Piper that JJ was rolling around on the bed. On  
his bed in the college dorm that JJ wasn't supposed to be in.  
"I told you that I'd have work to do this week. So, you can go back to our  
fearless leader and tell him that I won't help with this bank job."  
"Len didn't sent me."  
"He did not tell you to come convince me? He did not tell you to bug me until I give in?"  
"Well, he told me to do that, but I rarely do what anyone tells me to."  
Piper sighed. That was the problem with JJ. JJ only ever did what he wanted,  
which was fine as long as your goals and his coincided. But when they  
clashed or he was simply not interested, it would be easier to punch  
Superman and get away with it than changing JJ's mind.  
Which was bad because Piper wanted to work and JJ wanted him to do something else.  
Piper just wanted to work in peace. After getting kicked out of pretty much  
all schools on the east coast, his parents had pulled some strings and  
gotten him into the Keystone University. Which was fine for Piper  
because it didn't interfere with his night job and it upset his parents  
to know that their son would not be graduating from Havard. It was nice  
to be home and to be here to stay. He actually wanted to do well this  
time, and that meant to actually put some work into his studies.  
Which was hard because JJ kept breaking into his dorm room, inviting him out for a movie, ice cream or really just anything.  
"Please?"  
JJ asked and Piper wisely did not turn around. Resisting JJ was much  
harder when faced with those damn puppy eyes of his.  
Piper tried ignoring him. Most people lost interest and went away eventually. Which  
would have been fine if James had been most people. But, he was unique,  
resistant to normal and reverse psychology and freakishly good at  
telling when others were bluffing.  
Piper heard the bedsprings squeak. JJ was still there.  
"Don't you have other people to annoy?"  
"They already kicked me out of HQ."  
"Gambi?"  
"Visiting his nephew."  
Piper went through a list of names only to be told that they were either gone or wouldn't put up with JJ.  
Maybe...maybe  
JJ was lonely? Piper had never thought about it - JJ always seemed so  
vibrant, so cheerful and had a beaming smile that could light up a room.  
But then, JJ was a very good liar.  
And when he thought about it, JJ didn't really have any friends his age. He never went to school and  
taught himself everything; his secret identity made it hard to keep up  
friendships, and most people couldn't keep up with him. Piper was the  
only kid in JJ's age group, and even that was a stretch because Piper  
was turning 19 next month and JJ...he actually didn't know how old JJ  
was. JJ had various fake I.Ds that put him from 16 to 21, but Piper  
didn't believe any. James was a very good liar, put up fantastic  
facades. It wouldn't surprise Piper if JJ was actually younger than he  
claimed.  
Piper finally turned around on his chair and took one good look at JJ  
who was hanging upside down from the bed and smiled at him.  
JJ, when he wasn't trying to impress and make himself larger than life, looked somehow small and young.  
"Look, JJ, I like spending time with you, but I have to get this work done. Afterwards we can hang out, and-"  
JJ beamed. Oh-oh, what had he just said?  
"Then I'll just help you with your work! Then you'll be done faster and we can go play paintball!"  
That did sound like a lot of fun....  
"Fine. I'll have to do a presentation on modern American literature and-"  
"Great Gatsby, got it!"  
"How do you know that?"  
"Please, I have one phd from Harvard, one from Oxford and a master's degree from M.I.T."  
"What now?"  
"Online, naturally. Didn't want the story to make the papers."  
"You hacked into Harvard and gave yourself a phd?"  
JJ's eyes never left him as JJ pulled himself into an upright position.  
"Nah, I earned them. Those doctoral theses take ages to write."  
Huh.  
Maybe JJ didn't have friends in his age group, because they just weren't in  
his league. Or well... Piper wasn't sure if he was in JJ´s league.  
Which was sort of terrifying, because JJ was silly, immature and somehow still a genius.  
"I'll compile your research for your presentation, you can go read the book, and then we go play paintball?"  
Piper had made the mistake of turning around. He'd never be able to resist those baby-blues.  
"Fine."  
JJ leapt of the bed with such grace that Piper felt both in awe and jealous, hugged Piper tightly and then stole his laptop.

In the end, Piper's work was done much faster, it was even fun, and then  
they played paintball. They didn't win but it was fun nontheless.  
Looking back, this was one of the funniest afternoons Piper had had in ages.  
JJ had walked him back to the dorm and hugged him goodbye. "Thanks."  
Piper wrapped his arms around JJ´s shoulders. "Thank you," he whispered.  
As JJ left, Piper stared after him with a mix of emotions he couldn't  
decipher. If he had been able to, they would have been: happiness,  
pride, jealousy, intimidation, wonder and fondness.


	82. Pumkins and whatnot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James really loves halloween

James was much too invested in Halloween for Piper's liking.  
Sure, a lot of people went overboard on decorations and a lot of people dressed up in ridiculous costumes.  
James, however, seemed to fully embrace the Halloween spirit and lifestyle.  
Carved pumpkins with extraordinary spooky faces, a fog machine in the garden,  
about a metric ton of candy, fake skeletons, fake witches, fake zombies  
and a sound system that said lines like "Despair, mere mortals, for you  
have entered my realm and will not leave it alive. Muahahaha!" in a  
deep, booming voice.  
Piper still regretted making that voice modifier for James.

And even worse, James had gotten him somehow to spend Halloween at his  
place, hand out candy and scare off troublemakers. James tended to have  
that effect on him: he´d make some sort of demand or suggestion, Piper  
would say no, James would ask again, add a "pretty please", puppy eyes  
or something. Then Piper's brain shut down for a few seconds and James  
had gotten what he wanted.  
But, he guessed this wasn't such a bad night after all.  
They had a horror movie about a killer hand that strangled people on tivo,  
lots and lots of candy, remote controlled decorations and something that  
James called an egg-a-pult which they used to shoot teenagers who were  
looking for tricks and not treats.  
They had found their master here.

So, dressed as a vampire with plastic fangs and a long, extremely  
comfortable, cape, Piper sipped from his tea, took another slice of  
pumpkin pie and watched James' eyes sparkle as, once again, the voice  
announced that "Abandon hope all ye who enter here!"  
James' mid-riff baring mummy costume was just an added bonus, really.


	83. Mismatched furniture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues don't really fit together, but they do anyway

To this day, Piper wonders how he ever fell in with the Rogues.  
Sure, teenage rebellion, social injustice, a mischievous streak and thrill,  
and more, but he never found out how he found this kind of people.  
They were like a weird house where none of the rooms matched and every piece  
of furniture came from another place and clashed with the rest.

Digger was telling them a story about last night's exploits and how he had  
ended up with Sam, two strippers and a woman who Digger said had been a  
woman and who Sam said was just a pretty man. Piper listened with a mix  
of fascination and growing horror as the story went on.  
At one point, James visibly winced and then got out of the room. No one besides  
Piper could hear him throwing up in the bathroom.  
The other Rogues seemed to numb themselves with beer.

Digger's story finished with "And that's how we got kicked out of Cheddar's!"  
Roscoe replied with "You disgust me," Len drank even more, Sam giggled and  
Mark went to the other bathroom to puke. The others had passed out  
sometime during the story or at least pretended to.

Sure, the Rogues were his friends, his weird, dysfunctional family, but sometimes Piper really hated their guts.  
Especially Digger's.


	84. Dating Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Piper disagree about dating

James looked at him expectantly.  
Piper smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.  
"Thanks for the date. I had a great time."  
"Me too," James replied and grabbed Piper's hands, tangling their fingers  
together, swinging their combined hands back and forth.  
Something was up.

"What's going on?" he asked.  
"What? Oh, nothing," James said with a little smirk.  
"I've known you for too long. What's up, James?"  
"Well, according to what I know about American culture, there is something we should be doing, or at least considering."  
Piper thought for a moment. He may not have been the most well-adjusted or  
social kid but he was sure that he'd know if there was some kind of  
protocol for the first date.  
Movie, dinner, a drink, walking home, kiss - everything seemed in perfect order and nothing was missing.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Piper admitted.  
James seemed heartbroken.  
"So, I guess, that you don't like me that much then."  
"What?  
No, I really like you, James. I'm sorry, am I missing out on some  
first-date rule? My dates as a teenager were, well....awkward and  
probably not the norm."  
"First date? We've been dating for weeks!"  
"Weeks? What? Since when?"  
"Movie night? Three robberies? When we had dinner in Iron Heights-"  
"James, that was jail! Sharing prison meals together does not count as dating!"  
"Why not?"  
"What?"  
"We had a meal together, joked, laughed, talked and although you deny it, you were playing footsie."  
"I did not!"  
"Yes, you did!"  
"Did not!"  
"Did!"  
James and Piper simply stared at each other for several minutes.  
Just then did Piper realize that James hadn't let go of his hands.  
"Fine, I was playing footsie."  
"I knew it!"  
"What were you expecting, James?"  
"Well, maybe you inviting me in for coffee. If you catch my drift."  
Oh. OH.  
"Um...let me get used to that 'we´ve been dating for months'-thing first, okay?"  
"Okay," James said and pressed kisses to Piper's knuckles, "so, sex is off the table, huh?"  
"Go home," Piper said firmly, but with a big grin on his face.  
"Fine. You're still on for tomorrow?"  
"Naturally."  
"See you then."  
"Not if I see you first."  
"Very mature, James."  
James finally released his hands and started to walk away, gaining altitude with every step.  
"Show-off," Piper whispered fondly and went inside.


	85. A friend in need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James's sick, Piper mocks him

"A-choo!"  
James moaned as if in pain and curled himself into an even smaller ball on the couch.  
"Stop being melodramatic, it's just a cold. You're acting as if you're dying."  
"But what if I am? This could be a deadly disease," he coughed, "and you're making fun of me. I'm withering away."  
"You caught a cold after insisting that you absolutely had to run around on Gotham's roftops."  
"But I had to!"  
"You know, there are other ways to ask people out on a date than a cross-city hunt and robberies."  
"I stopped a robbery!"  
"Still. You could at least have worn something warmer. It's november, it's cold."  
"But I couldn't wait!"  
"Yes, you could, but you didn't want to. It's your fault, really."  
"That's how it's going to be? I'm dying and you don't even take pity on me!"  
"You're not dying."  
"I could be, and this would be our last conversation, and then you'd feel  
bad for the rest of your life because you mocked me instead of  
comforting me."  
"Fine! Poor, poor baby."  
"I can't help but feeling you're not being sincere here."  
"What tipped you off?"  
"The dripping sarcasm?"  
"Go to sleep, James."  
"Fine. But I'm so writing you out of my last will."  
"You have a last will?"  
"It's on a napkin. Basically it says 'Digger doesn't get my stuff'."  
"How poetic."  
"Tomorrow it will say 'Piper, too.'"  
"I'm trembling in my green booties."  
"Sure you are."  
James finally closed his eyes and started to sleep.  
Piper smiled and then cleaned up James' apartment. He layed cough medicine, juice and a take-out menu on the table.  
And then he snuck back into James' bedroom and took a photo of James snuggling with a giant blue teddy bear.  
What was friendship without a little blackmail?


	86. Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night with James, Piper, Wally and Linda

They were cramped on the small couch in Wally's and Linda's living room. James had of course tried to fight Wally for the big couch before Piper intervened and reminded him that they were the guests and James was godammit not kicking Wally off his own couch.  
James pouted but had quickly forgotten about the issue when Linda brought in popcorn.  
Piper wasn't sure if this sort-of-double-date-and-movie-night would become a regular tradition. Sure, he loved Wally and Linda and the kids, but he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend without him bickering with Wally or giving the kids potentially bad advice.  
And sure enough, right before the first commercial break, Wally's communicator went off and he had to run to Sri Lanka.  
A man in a bathroom came on the screen.  
"Oh cool, I love that commercial!"  
The man smiled and started to talk. And of course, James followed his direction, kept looking back from Piper to the guy on the screen, all the time with a big grin on his face.  
"You're enjoying this far too much, you know," Piper said.  
"Shut up. You do wear lady-scented body wash."  
"I do not!"  
"Yeah, you do."  
"Linda! Support, please?"  
"But he´s right."  
"He´s not!"  
"Your hair smells like peaches."  
"And his bodywash is almond scented," James supplied helpfully.  
"I hate you both."


	87. Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every Rogues has rituals. Piper's involve unicorns.

Every Rogue had his own ritual. A thing they did by either conviction, habit, or both.

Every evening, Sam would shine his shoes. It was an escape plan, battle strategy, plus his shoes looked really nice.

Once a day, Len would start drinking. Sometimes, he didn't stop.

During rain, Mark was never inside. During a storm, he was usually in the eye of its eye. And when there was a game on and it wasn't raining, Mark made sure that it was, eventually.

And every two weeks, Piper dressed up in civil clothes, put on a cap, a hoodie or even a wig, and left the hideout. He'd walk to the mall. He'd enter the "Little Princess Shop - because she deserves the best" and buy one of the unicorns. They were ungodly fluffy, googly eyed and soft. Sometimes they'd have wings, somtimes an extra long mane, sometimes they came with accessories.  
He always asked the clerk to gift-wrap it.  
Then he went to the post office.  
Afterwards he returned and never mention where he had been, either lying, deflecting or ignoring the Rogues.  
That was his ritual.

It wasn't more odd than Micks ritual to cook too-spicy chili every weekend, it wasn't stranger than Roscoe's ritual of getting a 200 $ haircut every month and it certainly wasn't as weird as Digger's weekly ritual which involved booze, partial nakedness and a digeridoo.

And every two weeks, little Jerrie got a package in the mail. She carefully unwrapped it, hugged the new toy and introduced it to her other unicorn plushies.  
And when she went to bed on those days, she'd take the new toy with her, hold it close and whisper "Thanks, Hartley".


	88. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James tries to cheer Piper up, whether he likes or not

"Hey, Piper! Come on, don't pout! Smile!"  
"I'm not in the mood, James, go away."  
"I'm trying to cheer you up here, you could at least appreciate my efforts."  
"I want to be alone!"  
"But don't you want to not want to be alone anymore?"  
"What?"  
"You want to be better. No one likes to be sad on purpose."  
"Maybe I do."  
"I don't believe you."  
"But it's true."  
"No. You feel like you should feel bad, so you try to stop me from cheering you up. You think you deserve to feel bad for what happened."  
"That's-"  
Absolutely true. Sometimes Piper forgot that James was a world-class conman and not just an idiot in a jester's costume. He did feel bad for losing the lawsuit he filed to be able to see Jerrie again. He failed her.  
And now he punished himself even more by refusing James´ help.  
"I’m going to be your girl tonight  
I’m going to make you apple pie  
I’m going to wear my cherry red  
I’m going to give you lots of room in my bed."  
James started to sing and began to dance.  
The he smiled and Piper couldn't help by feeling better.


	89. Feminism 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper gives the Rogues a lesson

Wow. Just wow. Sometimes Piper just couldn't believe the Rogues. Especially Digger...and Len...and sometimes Roscoe...and Mark.  
So, one evening, the Rogues found themselves drawn mysteriously towards the living room where Piper waited impatiently. Besides him, the stereo was emitting a strange flute music.  
"This is your doing," Roscoe stated.  
"Yes. I brought you here for a reason: I think it's time for a crash course in feminism."  
"Come on, that yesterday was a joke."  
"You won't get out that easily."  
"Hey, why isn't James here?"  
"Oh, James is here," the very person in question said, "but I'm assisting Piper."  
"How come he doesn't need a course?"  
"I would never disrespect women. I was brought up to worship them...and in some cases fear them, but trust me, there is lots and lots of respect involved. So, feminism 101..."


	90. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter, and what the Rogues do with it

Every Rogue reacts differently to winter.

Mick buys himself a plane ticket to a warm, warm country and won't be seen until at least February.

Digger sort of hibernates: he buys lots of beer, eggnog and more beer and stays inside the whole time.

Mark is usually in the thick of things, if by things you mean blizzard. The colder the air, the stronger the winds, the happier Mark is. The only downside for him is that thunderstorm are rare.

Piper works overtime at the shelters, volunteers at soup kitchens and gives out blankets.

Roscoe and Lisa go ice skating all the time and can't be convinced to come inside.

Sam goes overboard on decorating his house with christmas lights, a plastic santa, plastic reindeers and much more. He wages war against his neighbor from across the street who has lights, a huge tree, a nativity play and a singing snowman. Of course that is a challenge for Sam who begins hanging up big, sparkly snowflakes and wears a reindeer hat that plays "We wish you a merry christmas" when you tug on the horns.

Roy sketches the city buried under snow, when everything's peaceful and quiet. So what if the snow is green, he thinks it looks nice.

James does it all: snowball fights, skiing, snowboarding, skating, sleigh riding and drinking hot cocoa until he feels like he's melting from the inside.

Everyone jokes about Len and winter. Be it that he looks like a blue Santa, that he acts like the main character from Bad Santa or that he is as grumpy as the Grinch. Everyone assumes that winter must be his favorite time of the year.  
It's not.  
Ice cream trucks don't drive in winter.


	91. Perception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is so much more than he seems

Piper has always wondered how James fit into the Rogues. The others have tremendous power, can move heaven and earth, hit fast and hard and can take down heroes with a single blow. Piper started off with the hypnotism, but the sonic guns are so much more fun. He discovered his conscious very early on and switched sides. James though, James has always been between the sides, been never black or white. James can't shoot lightning or ice from his fingers, can't burst into flame or manipulate light. All he can do is walk in the air; not even fly, just walk.  
One day, Piper sees James in action. Not in the air, but on the ground. And James smiles, he charms and as if by magic, he gets what he wants. He always gets what he wants.  
One smile here, one smile there, a subtle gesture, change of intonation and suddenly everything works out. Piper's not sure if James even realizes it. He doesn't make people do what he wants, he makes people want to do what he wants. And he doesn't even mean to.  
It is a bit like the psychic paper the Doctor uses: it makes people believe that he is a person of great authority. James makes people like him. Or...maybe he doesn't make them. He doesn't.  
They are drawn to him, they are like moths. And it's not because of what he does, it is because of who he is.

And this, might be the greatest power any Rogue has ever had.


	92. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is truth, and lies, and tales and fantasy and more than all combined

There are many things in our lives that aren't real. Daydreams, fiction, lies, nightmares and fantasies.  
But even thought they are not real, they are by no means fake. Merely untrue.  
And sometimes, what isn't real means more to us than reality.  
Dreams comfort us with warmth, softness and happiness when reality is rough.  
Fiction takes us to place far away, full of wonders and magic, when we can't bear reality any longer.  
Daydreams are the little spark, the little secret that only we know and which makes us happy.

In his life, there had been many untrue things. So many lies he has told, so many lies he has heard. Many adventurous tales of Jesse James that never happened, many nights in the circus when the aerialist, the clowns and the magicians wove a fantastic tale that was too good to be true.  
Daydreams where he fights the Flash and wins, daydreams about riches, about endless fun.  
Hypotheses about what his life might have been like if only....if only he had never left the circus. If he had stopped being a Rogue earlier. If he could have seen his son grow up.  
As time goes by, he packs those away, they have no place in his life.  
But he needs them more than ever before.  
As he runs and then as he dies, he realizes that he has lived a nightmare for the past year, only that this one had been real, had been true.  
As he drifts away, he dreams for the last time, he sees his final fantasy.  
And it means so much more to him than the reality, than every dream before, more than anything that was and wasn't.

And after he is gone, he, too, becomes a a fantasy, a tale to tell. Memories will mix with fantasy, and when his friends and even enemies speak about him, the Trickster will live again. He will be both true and a lie.  
And maybe, that is what he always was.


	93. Screw Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grinch has nothing on them

Rogues' christmas parties were definetely better than those he had to endure at home, where his parents acted coolly and gave him things he never wanted and expected him to be grateful for.  
The Rogues at least had a warm atmosphere and they did care about each other, in their own, stunted, dysfunctional ways. But that didn't mean that their gift choices were any better.

All of Len's presents clearly came from the gas station two roads away (except for Lisa's, she got exquisite diamonds). Roscoe have them money in envelopes. Roy offered to draw something for them. Mick had bought enough beer for an entire army. James had made cookies, but no one wanted to even touch them (which was good for them because they were filled with extremely hot chili sauce). The other presents were equal in their level of apropriateness, except for Piper's. To be fair, Digger had at least put some effort into this, and maybe even some thought.  
That didn't mean though that Piper liked those thoughts.  
He received a neon "Live Nudes" sign that Digger had stolen from a strip club.  
Piper's present to Digger consisted in not hitting him with a blunt object there and then.  
However, Digger made a remark that he probably thought was funny (and absolutely wasn't) which did lead to Piper trying to hit him with a baseball bat (Mark's present to all of them. He really seemed to hate baseball and had stolen the equipment of the local team, as well as ruining their last game with a blizzard)


	94. Voodoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cicada is creepy.

Piper would have liked to say that he was an atheist and didn't believe in god or the principle of an all-powerful entity creating life. He was a man of science.  
Unfortunately, in a world where magic was real and where gods sometimes walked the earth, it was really quite impossible.  
That didn't mean that he liked magic.  
Magic was unpredictable, magic was unfair.

Frankly, he felt as if magic was cheating.

 

His opinion on magic and religion didn't improve when he was confronted with those cult people who worshipped the Flash. They tried to convert him and in the end, when they realized that it wasn't going to work, tried to attack.  
He was declared a false friend of the Flash, a judas among his flock.  
Wally told him after he had been to Iron Heights that Cicada had made a voodoo doll of Piper (thankfully without his hair or any part of him) and had stabbed and mutilated it horribly.  
After that, he was much more carefully about potential hair or dna he could have left behind.  
You never know...


	95. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper sacrifices one thing to be happy

It wasn't like Piper meant to be frustrating, or meant to be rude.  
Sometimes, he did, but never against James.  
But sometimes work was rough, Piper was tired and then he snapped when James asked something.  
Then there was another political campaign that was just full of shit, and then he missed their anniversary.  
James never said anything, because he knew that Piper was overworked and tired, but Piper could just see that it hurt him.

So when Piper came hom from helping Wally, he found James lying on the couch, fast asleep. He shouldn't have waited up, or tried to.  
James had his own job, working as a special effects advisor again, but he never lashed out.  
Piper put his bag down, took his coat off when he saw the table decked with food.  
James had mentioned that he had wanted to cook a nice dinner for Piper to cheer him up after work. "Affettati, lasagne, arrosto e gelato," he had said. Not that Piper knew what that was, well, besides lasagne. And it contained meat. And milk products.  
What Piper hadn't mentioned was that three weeks ago he had decided to become a vegan.  
God, it was three weeks ago and he hadn't even mentioned it.  
"Hey, you're back," James said sleepily. "My neck is killing me."  
"You shouldn't have waited up, you should have gone to bed."  
"But I said that I wanted to wait up and you know that no one can change my mind. Not even you, although I sometimes let yout think that you can."  
He smiles and Piper is hit again with how much he loves James.  
"It's a bit cold by now, but we can always reheat dinner. Are you hungry?"  
Piper can't disappoint James again, even if it's just dinner.  
"Starving," he replies.  
Screw veganism.


	96. Gingerbread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James overdoes christmas

It was no secret that James loved the holidays, especially christmas...and his other christmas, the first of april.  
Piper was therefore not really surprised when he received a text from James saying that he was baking and run out of flour and really could not leave and if Piper would be so kind to bring him some.  
Sensing the opportunity to get free cookies or at least a slice of cake, he bought some flour and went to James' house. Even from outside of the door he could smell the divine aroma of gingerbread. Maybe James was making a gingerbread house again; those were divine, and almost too pretty to eat. Almost.  
Piper rang the bell, heard the melody of "Jingle Bells" and then James yelling "Come in already."  
"I got your flour," he said and then his jaw dropped.  
James loved holidays, everyone knew that.  
But everyone also knew that he frequently went overboard in his joy.  
James was indeed baking a gingerbread house.  
And gingerbread men.  
Life-sized gingerbread men.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Best. Christmas Prank. Ever."


	97. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...if only it was

"This is it, the end, isn't it?" Piper asked.  
The world had become darker still, or had that just been him?  
"Everything has been so crazy, so violent, so strange. I feel like I'm trapped in the wilderness. But, this is the end, right?"  
The bright figure stretched out its hand. It only had one left.  
Piper didn't know, but he had died already two hours ago.  
"It is," the figure lied.  
How it wished this was true...


	98. Cold nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogues and winter

Someone knocked on the door.  
"Who is it?" Sam yelled from the living room. The Grinch movie was on and he would not miss it by getting up to answer the door.  
"Just some merry people wishing to carol-"  
"Screw you!" he shouted.

"I am going to kill Mardon if he dares to show his face here again," Mick forced out between chattering teeth. The biggest snowstorm of the century.  
And all because JJ had wondered innocently whether they might have a white christmas this year.

 

This night was one of the coldest of the year with a meter of snow covering the earth. No one was on the streets. The Rogues were holed up in the safehouse. No one complained about Mick lighting another set of candles, no commented on the sappiness of the tv movies and no one said anything about the christmas candy.  
Mainly they were all plastered about having a glass of Digger's special eggnogg - but it was by far the most peaceful christmas they had ever had.


	99. Christmas Charol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas, rogues and music

Piper liked music. All kinds of music really - no matter the genre, he liked good songs.  
That was the keyword: "good".  
Mick's country songs seldom were good and the christmas album of his favorite redneck singer Brian Lou Brianson was anything but enjoyable.  
To be fair, Mark's Gregorian Monks sing Christmas songs weren't bad, but getting on his nerves since he had them on auto replay.  
The garbled mess Digger though of as christmas music was probably illegal.  
He never thought he'd listen to one good song this christmas he didn't provide himself.  
If he heard "Last Christmas" one more time, he was going to murder someone, really. Preferably the radio jockey.  
And then, he heard a faint voice one night.  
It came from outside, so he put on his coat, slipped into his boots and went outside, wrapping his arms around himself. There, on the swing he swore was the sole reason they had chosen this house, was a lone figure, going back and forth while singing. The snow to its feet was untouched.  
If he didn't know better, he would have believed to see an angel.  
But, he did know better.  
"What are you doing out here, James?"  
"Isn't that obvious?"  
"Yes, I just - I never knew you could sing."  
"I'm the Trickster, I can do anything I want."  
Piper smiled softly. It was freezing outisde, but the air was clear and crisp, the night sky was black and the snow seemed to glow.  
And really, James sounded like an angel.  
As he listened to James sing "Angels we have heard on high", he finally got what people were always going on about christmas being magical.


	100. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul Gambi, and his friends

Paul Gambi considers himself to have a healthy business attitude.  
He is polite, efficient, and does some extra work for special, well-paying and mostly illegal clients.  
But, after a while, and before he has noticed it, the special clients have become something more. They're his friends.

And like true friends, they always need something when you're on vacation.  
The first time, it is Mick showing up with a tear on a sleeve when Gambi packs his bags for a vacation to his mum in Sicily. He spends his night not checking his luggage, but fixing Mick's outfit. But hey, Mick is a friend and would probably burn to a crisp if his suit was compromised. So what if Gambi remembers on the plane that he didn't pack any shirts? He's a tailor, he'll get over it.

The next time, it's Piper. Superficially, he needs a new hat. But really, he needs a hug. So, Gambi almost misses the bus he and a few friends chartered for a tour to Atlantic City. Piper's a friend, it's okay.

But, as always with good friends, they get to you. They become something more.  
Gambi sees the Rogues watch over Tony when he goes to school, he does notice Len scaring away someone who offered protection money and to be honest, they're good company. At least the shop is never silent with them there.

So, what if he wants to take time off to go to a spa and instead patches up Sam? And what if he wants to go the park and instead tells a policeman that no, he hasn't seen anyone enter his shop except old Ms Patricia Smythe-Smith who is 87 and walks with a cane(and is really James under a lot of make-up)? They're family, it's okay, really.


End file.
